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(O^TFMIEIE 




1^ 



SECRET MEMOIRS 

OF THE 

ROYAL FAMILY OF FRANCE, 

DURING THE REVOLUTION,- 

WITH ORIGINAL AND XVfHETStlC ANECDOTES OF 

CONTEMPORARY SOVEREIGNS^ 

AND OTHER DISTINGUISHED PERSONAGES OF THAT EVENTFUL PERIOD,^ 

Now first Published from the 

JOURNAL, BETTERS, AND CONVERSATIONS 



PRINCESS LAMBALLK 

BY A LADY OP RANK, 

IN THE eoNFIDENTIAL SERVICE OF THAT UNFORTUNATE PRINCESS 



tXTZTH A CIPHER 

OF THE SECRET CORRESPONDENCE OF MARIE AllfTOINBTTE- 



PHILADELPHli: 

H. C. CAREY & I. LEA— CHESNUT STREET. 

1826. 



GRIGGS U DICKINSON, Prlnteirs^ 

WhitehalL 









CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

Journal comwe«cerf.— Empress Maria Theresa, mother of Maria 
Antoinette, — Her political views in all the marriages of her 
daughters. — Fate of the Arch-dutchess Josepha.— On the death 
of Josepha, the Arch-dutchess Carolina weds the king of Na- 
ples. — Maria Theresa's remonstrance with the court of Naples, 
on her daughter's treatment. — The daughter remonstrates more 
promptly and effectually. — Maria Antionette destined for 
France. — Madame Pompadour. — French hatred to Austria. — 
Vermond recommended by Brienne as Maria Antoinette's 
tutor. — He becomes a tool of Austria. — Limited education of 
Maria Antoinette. — Her fondness for balls and private plays.— 
Metastasio. — Du Barry. — Observations of the editor on Maria 
Theresa's sacrifice of her daughters to her policy. 25 



CHAPTER n. 

Editor's remarks on erroneous statements of Madame Campan.-— 
Journal resumed. — Dauphin on his wedding-night and the next 
morning. — Court intrigues begin, — Daughters of Louis XV. — 
Their influence on the dauphin, and dislike of his young bride. 
Maria Antoinette's distaste for etiquette, and love of simplicity. 
Court taste for hoop-dresses accounted for. — Madame de 
Noailles. — Her horror at not having baen summoned on an oc- 
casion of delicacy. — Duke de Vauguyon takes a dislike to 
Maria Antoinette.—Cabal between Vermond and Madame 



IV CONTENTS. 

Marsaii. — Du Barry jealous of the daupliiness.— Richelieu,— - 
Three ladies leave the supper-table of Louis XV. from Du Bar- 
ry being there. — Remonstrance of the dauphiness to her mother 
on being made to sup with Du Barry. — Answer.— Count d'Ar- 
tois and Monsieur return from travelling. — Are charmed with 
Maria Antoinette. — Scandal respecting d'Artois and the dau- 
phiness. — Changes wrought by court marriages. — Remonstrance 
of Maria Theresa to the French court. — Dutchess de Gram- 
mont. — Louis XV. intrigues to divorce the dauphin and marry 
the dauphiness. — Diamond necklace first ordered by Louis XV. 
as a present to his hoped-for-bride. — Dauphin complains of the 
distance of his apartment from that of his wife. — All parties 
intrigue to get Maria Antoinette sent back to Austria, 35 



CHAPTER IIL 

Journal contmued.~Ma.Ti3. Theresa.— Cardinal de Rohan.— Em- 
press induced by him to send spies to France.— Maria Antoi- 
nette dislikes meddling with politics.— ^-Deep game of de Rohan, 
"—Spies sent to France, unknown to the cardinal, to discover 
how far his representations are to be trusted. — She finds he has 
deceived her, and resents it.-^He falls in love with Maria An- 
toinette.— Betrays her to her mother. — Indignation of Maria 
Antoinette on the occasion.— He suggests the marriage of Maria 
Antoinette's sister with Louis XV. — His double intrigues with 
the two courts of France and Austria,— Louis XV. dies,— -Rohaoi 
disgraced. 55 



CHAPTER IV, 

Journal eonrmMed— -Accession of Louis XVI. and Maria Antoi^ 
nette. — -Happy beginning.— Public joy.— The new king more 
alFectionate to his queen.— Du Barry and party no longer re- 
ceived at court.-^Unsuccessful attempt of the queen to restore 
Choiseul to the ministry.' — Insinuations against the queen. — ■ 
Vermond and the king.— The queen's modesty respecting her 
toilette.— Madamoiselle Bertin, the milliner, introduced.— An- 
ecdote of the royal hair-dresser. — False charge of extravagance 
sigainst the queen— Remarks of the editor^ 68 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER V. 



Notes of the Editor.— Family of the Princess Lamballe. — Journ- 
al resumed. — Her own account of herself. — Duke and Dutchess 
de Penthievre. — Mademoiselle de Penthievre and Prince Lam- 
balle. — King of Sardinia.— Ingenious and romantic anecdotes of 
the Princess Lamballe's marriage. — The Duke de Chartres, af- 
terwards Orleans, marries Mademoisselle de Penthievre. — De 
Chartres makes approaches to the Princess Lamballe. — Being 
scorned, corrupts her husband. — ^Prince Lamballe dies. — Sledge 
parties.— The princess becomes acquainted with the queen. — Is 
made her majesty's superint'endant. 79 



CHAPTER VL 

Observations of the editor on the various parties against Lamballe, 
in consequence of her appointment.— Its injury to the queen. 
— Particulars of Lamballe, the duties of her office, and her con- 
duct in it. — The Polignacs. — Character of the countess Diana. 
'—Journal resumed. — Account of the first introduction to the 
queen of the Dutchess Julie de Polignac. — -The queen's sudden 
and violent attachment to her. — Calumnies resulting from it. — 
Remark on female friendships. — Lamballe recedes from the 
queen's intimacy. — At the duke her father-in law's, is near fall- 
ing a victim to poison.— Alarm of the queen, who goes to her, 
and forces her back to court.— Her majesty annoyed at Lam- 
balle's not \asiting the Polignacs.— -Her reasons The Abbe 

Vermond retires, and returns. 93 



CHAPTER VII. 

Journal continued. — Slanders against the Empress Maria Theresa, 
on account of Metastasio, give the queen a distaste for patroni- 
sing literature. — Private plays and acting. — Censoriousness of 
those who were excluded from them. — The queen's love of 
music. — Gluck invited from Germany. — Anecdotes of Gluck 

and his Armida Garat. — Viotti. — Madame St. Oberti.— 

Vestris. JOS 



VI CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



Journal continued. — Emperor Joseph comes to France. --Injurious 
reports of immense sums of money given him from the treasu- 
ry.— -Princess Lamballe presented to him. — Anecdotes told by 
him of his family. — The king annoyed by his freedoms. — Cir- 
cumstances that occurred while he was seeking information 
among the common people.— Note of the editor on certain mis- 
takes of Madame Campan. 114 

CHAPTER IX. 

Journal conf^nwerf.— Pleasure of hearing of the birth of ehildreno 
—The queen's exultation at finding herself pregnant.— Favour- 
able change in the public sentiment. — The king's aunts annoyed 
at the queen's prosperity.— Her pregnancy ascribed by Du 
Barry to D'Artois. — Lamballe interferes to prevent a private 
meeting between the queen and Baron BesenvaL — Coolness in 
consequence.— The interview granted, and the result as feared. 
■ — The queen sensible of her error.— The Polignacs. — Night 
promenades on the Terrace at Versailles and at Trianon. — 
Queen's remark on hearing of Du Barry's intrigue against 
her. — Princess Lamballe declines going to the evening prome- 
nades. —-Vermond strengthens Maria Antoinette's hatred of 
etiquette. — Her goodness of heart. — Droll anecdote of the Che- 
valier d'Eon. 125 



CHAPTER X. 

Observations of the Editor.— /owrnaZ con^inwerf.— Birth of the 
Dutchess d'Angouleme. — Maria Antoinette delivered of a dau- 
phin. — Increasing influence of the Dutchess de Polignac. — The 
Abbe Vermond heads an intrigue against it.— Polignac made 
governess of the royal children. — Her splendour and increasing 
unpopularity. — Envy and resentment of the nobility. — Birth of 
the Duke of Normandy. — The Queen accomplishes the marriage 
of the Dutchess de Polignac 's daughter with the Duke de 
Guiche.— Cabals of the court.— Maria Antoinette's partiality 



CONTENTS. VU 

for the English. — Libels on the queen.— Private commissions to 
suppress them.— Motives of the Duke de Lauzun for joining the 
calumniators. — Droll conversation between Maria Antoinette, 
Lady Spencer, the Duke of Dorset, &c.j at Versailles. — Inter- 
esting visit of the Grand Duke of the North (afterwards the 
Emperor Paul) and his Dutchess. — Maria Antoinette's disgust 
at the King of Sweden. — Audacity of the Cardinal de Ro- 
han. 1S7 



CHAPTER XL 

Editor's observations, and recapitulation of the leading particu- 
lars of the diamond necklace plot. — Journal resumed. — Prin- 
cess Lamballe's remarks on that dark transaction. — Vergennes 
opposes judicial investigation.— The queen's party prevail in 
bringing the affair before the council.' — Groundlessness of the 
charge against Maria Antoinette. — Confusion of Rohan when 
confronted with the queen. — He procures the destruction of all 
the letters of the other conspirators. — Means resorted to by 
Rohan's friends to obtain his acquittal. — The Princess Conde 
expends laige sums for that purpose. — Her confusion when the 
proofs of her bribery are exhibited.— The king's impartiality. 
— Mr. Sheridan discovers the treachery of M. de Calonne.— 
Calonne's abject behaviour, dismissal, and disgrace. — Note of 
the editor. 159 

CHAPTER XH. 

Journal continued. — Archbishop of Sens made minister, dismiss- 
ed, and his efSgy burned. — The queen imprudently patronises 
his relations. — Mobs* — Dangerous unreserve of the queen.— 
Apology for the Archbishop of Sens. — The queen forced to 
take a part in the government. — Meeting of the States-General. 
— Anonymous letter to the Princess Lamballe. — Significant 
visit of the Dutchess of Orleans. — Disastrous procession.— 
Barnave gives his opinion of public affairs to the Princess Lam- 
balle, who communicates with the queen. — Briberies by Orleans 
on the day of the procession. — He faints in the Assembly. — 
Neckar suspected of an understanding with him. — Is dismiss- 
ed.— No communication on public business with the queen but 



Vni CONTENTS. 

through the Princess Lamballe. — Political influence falsely 
ascribed to the Dutchess de Polignac— Her unpopularity. — - 
Duke of Harcourt and the first dauphin. — Death of the first 
dauphin.— Cause of Harcourt's harsh treatment of Polignac— 
Second interview of Barnave with the Princess Lamballe. — ■ 
He solicits an audience of the queen, which is refused. — Dia- 
logue between Lamballe and the Prince de Conti. — ^Remarks 
on the Polignacs.^ — Marriage of Figaro, a political satire. 180 



CHAPTER Xin. 

Journal eo7itinued.—'The populace enraged at Neckar's dismissaL 
— Orleans. — Mobs.— Bastille destroyed. — Grief of the queen. 
' — Blames de Launay.-— The king and his brothers go to the 
National Assembly. — Scene at the palace. — The queen presents 
herself to the people with her children.— Lamballe called for. 
—She appears. — Is threatened by an agent of Orleans in the 
crowd, and faints.— The queen proposes to go on horseback, in 
uniform, to join the array with her husband.— Prepares for her 
departure.— Her anguish on learning the king's resolution to go 
to Paris.— He goes thither. — Receives the national cockade from 
Bailly.— Returns.— The queen's delight.— The Polignacs, d'Ar- 
tois, Conde, and others emigrate.— =The troops withdrawn from 
Paris and Versailles. — Recall of Neckar.— General observations 
of the editor on the influence of the Polignacs, and its effect on 
the public feeling as to the queen. 204 



CHAPTER XIV. 

« 
Journal lesMmerf.— Barnave's penitence. =AGives the queen a list 
of the Jacobins, who had emissaries in France to excite an in- 
surrection. — Their majesties insulted in the royal chapel, by 
those belonging to it appearing in the national uniform.— Nec- 
kar proposes to the queen the dismissal of the Abbe Vermond. 
■ — ^Her strange acquiescence.— La Fayette causes the guards of 
the palace of Versailles to desert and join the national guard, 
—Their majesties advised to fly to a place of safety. — Their 
feelings on Neekar's recommending the abolition of all privi- 
ledged distinctions. -—A courier stopped with despatches from 



Prince Kauuitz. — Dumourier betrays to the queen the secret 
schemes of the Orleans' faction. — She peremptorily refuses his 
proffered services. — Loyalty of the officers of the Flanders Re- 
giment. — ^Effect of this on the national assembly. — Dinner given 
to this regiment by the body guards. — Military public breakfast. 
— ^Project to remove the king, and confine the queen in a dis- 
tant part of France. — Nefarious famine plot to excite the peo- 
ple against their sovereigns, 221 



CHAPTER XV, 



Journal continued. — ^Mavch from Paris of a factious mob and the 
National Guard, vi^ith La Fayette at their head. — ^Poissards at 
the palace gates of Versailles — Dreadful tumult. — Attempt to 
assassinate the queen.^ — Orleans seen encouraging the regicides. 
—La Fayette suspected, from his not appearing to quell the 
insurrection. —The queen shows herself at the window^s of the 
palace, with her children.— Her heroic address to the king. — 
The royal family depart with the mob for Paris.— Their situa- 
tion at the Thuilleries.— Mirabeau, disgusted with Orleans, 
deserts him. — Orleans, impelled by fear, flies to England. — 
The king and queen requested by a deputation from the Na- 
tional Assembly to appear at the theatre. — Conversation between 
her majesty and Count de Fersan on tlie queen's refusal. — The 
queen and the Dutchess de Luynes. — Dejected state of her ma- 
jesty, wlio ceases to be seen in society. 240 



CHAPTER XVL 



Tlie Editor relates anecdotes of herself, illustrative of the spirit 
of the times. -=^Outcry against her at tjie. theatre, on account of 
.-^e colours of her.dress. — ^Refused by the guards admission to 
ijie Tliuillerles, from not having the national ribbon.— Spy set 
upon her by the queen to try her fidelityo ♦ 357 

(A) 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XVII. 



Editor in continuation.^ — Extraordinary expedients necessary fo 
evade espionage. — Anecdote of boxes sent by the editor from 
Paris.— Curious occurrence respecting Gamin, the king's lock- 
smith. —Consternation of the Princess Lamballe when apprized 
of it. — Scheme to avoid the consequences. — Kind and interest- 
ing' conduct of the queen and royal family. 267 



CHAPTER XVIIL 

Editor in continuation.—Mv. Burke. — His interest for the queen 
and royal cause misrepresented. — Proposes various schemes for 
averting the Revolution. — -A secret and confidential ambassador 
being deemed necessary to communicate with the court of Eng- 
land, the Princess Lamballe thought of for the mission. — Per= 
sonages whom she cultivates when in England. — Her mission 
rendered unavailing by the troubles in France increasing. — 
Sends the editor to France for explicit instructions. — Distressed 
by the papers brought back, she prepares for her own return t» 
France. — Her account of her reception in England, and what 
she means to do when in France. — Postscript, Public occur- 
rences in France during the absence of the princess. — Neckar. 
■ — His administration and final retirement. — French clergy. •=" 
Their heartless conduct. — Talleyrand.— Barras. 27^ 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Narrative continued by the Editor,— Ybxiqub schemes suggested 
for the escape of the royal family from France. — The queen re- 
fuses to go without her family.— Pope Pius VI» the only sove- 
reign who offered his aid.— Fatal attempt at last to escape. ■= 

Cannes of its faikre»=Death of Mirabeaii. 288 



CONTENTS, XI 



CHAPTER XX. 



Journal resumed. — The Princess Lamballe receives a ring from 
the queen, set with her own hair, which had whitened from 
grief. — Letter of the queen to the Princess Lamballe. — Joy of 
the rojal family on the return of her highness to Paris. — Meet- 
ing with the queen. — Conversation with her majesty on the 
state of the nation, and remedies for its disorders. — Deputies 
attend the drawing-room, of the princess. — Barnave and others 
persuade her to attend the debates of the assembly. — She hears 
Robespien-e denounce the deputies who caused her attendance. 
— Earnestness of the king and queen in their behalf. — -Robes- 
pierre bribed to suspend the accusation. — Fetes on the accept- 
ance of the constitution. — Insults to the royal party. — Agony 
of the queen on her return. — Conversation with M. de Mont- 
morin on plans necessary to be pursued. — Determination for the 
queen to go to Vienna. 395 



CHAPTER XXL 

Journal continued. — Effect on the queen of the death of her bro= 

thers, the Emperors Joseph and Leopold. Change in the 

queen's household during the absence of the princess. Causes 
and consequences. — Course pursued by the princess. — Commu- 
nication from M. Laporte, head of the king's police, of a plot 
to poison the queen and royal family. — Plans to prevent its ac- 
complishment. — -Conversations between the queen and the 
princess, and between the king and the queen, upon the 
subject. ^11 



CHAPTER XXH. 

Editor in continuation. — Consequences of the emigration of the 
princes and nobility.— -Princes Lamballe writes to recal the 



Sll CONTENTS. 

Emigrants.— The royal family, and the distinguished friends of 
the princess, implore her to quit France. — Her magnanimous 
reply. — Is prevailed on to go to England on a renewal of her 
mission. — Finds in England a coolness towards France. — In 
consequence of increasing troubles in France, returns thi- 
ther- 320 



CHAPTER XXIIL 

Editor in confmtm^ton.— Attempt, on the 20th of June, to set the 
apartment of the Princess Lamballe on fire. — Conversation be- 
tween the princess and the editor. — ^Interrupted by the rush of 
the mob into the rooiii. — The editor is wounded and swoons.-~ 
Sent the next day to Passy. — Hurried interview there with the 
princess.— Unable to suppress her curiosity, leaves Passy for 
Paris.— Singular adventure with the driver of a short stage, 
who turns out a useful friend. — Meeting on the way with mobs 
in actual battle, returns, being afraid of proceeding. — The dri= 
ver goes to Paris, and brings back the editor's man-servant.— 
His account of what had passed at Paris. — Letter of the Prin- 
cess Lamballe, detailing the affair of the 20th of June.—- The 
editor recalled to Paris. S^? 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Journal of the princess resumed and concluded. — La Fayette, in 
consequence of the events of the 20th of June, leaves his army 
to remonstrate with the assembly. — Remarks. — The king re- 
fuses to see him. — Deputation arrives, to which he was a party, 
to urge the king and queen to consign the dauphin to the pro= 
tection of the army.— The queen's refusal.— Conversation with 
the kingo — Disgust of the royal family against La Fayette. 343 



CHAPTER XXV. 

The editor attends debates, and executes confidential employ- 
ments, in various disguises.— Becomes intimate with a reporter. 
"-Adventure with Danton in the Thuilleries, disguised as a 



CONTENTS, Xiii 

milliner's apprentice.— Horrid scene in the gardens.— Conster- 
nation of the royal party, on seeing her with Danton.— She 
contrives to be taken by him to the palace. — Delight of the 
Princess Lamballe at her return. — Conversation with the prin- 
cess upon the state of public aJBfairs, and hopelessness of the 
royal cause. 351 

CHAPTER XXVL 

Affecting interview between the queen, Princess Elizabeth, Prin- 
cess Lamballe, and the editor. — Princess Lamballe communi- 
cates the intention of the queen, to send the editor on a mis- 
sion to her royal relations. — Receives the cipher of the Italian 
correspondence. — Presents given to the editor previous to her 
departure. — Instructions from the Princess. — Sees her for the 
last time. — Quits France. — Contrast between the Dutchess of 
Parma and the Queen of Naples, on the receipt of her majes- 
ty's letters.— Conversation of the Queen of Naples with Gene- 
ral Acton. 361 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

Tenth of August at Paris. — Mandat slain — The royal family 
escape to the hall of Assembly. — Transferred to the Thuil- 
leries. — Imprisoned in the Temple. — False information to get 
the female attendants removed. — The Princess Lamballe sees 
the queen for the last time. — Her examination before the au- 
thorities. — Is transferred with others to the prison de La Force. 
—-Massacre of the prisons. — Efforts of the Duke of Penthievre, 
to preserve the Princess Lamballe, innocently defeated. ^ — The 
princess questioned by the bloody tribunal. — Taken out before 
the mob. — Receives the first stab from a mulatto, whom she 
had bi'ought up.— Her head severed from her body, and paraded 
on a pole. — The body stripped and exposed to incredible bru- 
tality. — The head taken by the mob to the Temple. — Effect of 
the circumstance on her majesty. — A servant maid of the edi- 
tor's dies of fright at seeing it. — Effect of the procession of the 
Duke of Orleans and his mistress.— Visit of the editor to the 
icemetry of La Madeleine, some years after. 875 



XIV CONTENTS, 



CHAPTER XXVIIL 

The murder of the Princess Lamballe only preparatory to other 
victims. — Death of the king. — His character.— -San terre. — 
Death of the queen. — Her friendships and character. — Death of 
the Princess Elizabeth. — Duke of Orleans.— His death.— -The 
dauphin. — Anecdote of the Dutchess d'Angouleme.— Curious 
particulars of Robespierre, David, and Carriere .--Concluding 
observation. 391 



INTRODUCTION. 



I SHOULi) consider it great presumption to intrude 
upon the Public any thing respecting myself, were there 
any other way of establishing the authenticity of the 
facts and papers I am about to present. To the history 
of my own peculiar situation, amid the great events I 
FiScord, which made me the depository of information and 
Coeuments so important, I proceed, therefore, though re- 
luctantly, without further preamble. 

In the title-page of this work I have stated, that I was 
for many years in the confidential service of the princess 
Laraballe, and that the most important materials, which 
form my history, have been derived not only from the 
conversations, but the private papers of my lamented 
patroness. It remains for me to show, how I became ac- 
quainted with her highness, and by what means the pa- 
pers I allude to came into my possession. 

Though, from my birth, and the rank of those who 
were the cause of it (had it not been, from political mo- 
tives, kept from my knowledge,) in point of interest I 
ought to have been very independent, I was indebted for 
my resources in early life to his grace the late Duke of 
Norfolk, and Lady Mary Duncan. By them I was placed 
for education in the Irish Convent, Rue du Bacq, Fawx- 
bourg St. Germain, at Paris, where the immortal Saechi- 
ni, the instructor of the queen, ga>^e me lessons iii inusic. 

B 



IQ INTRODUCTION. 

Pleased with my progress, the celebrated composer, when 
one day teaching Maria Antoinette, so highly overrated 
to that illustrious lady my infant natural talents, and ac- 
quired science in his art, in the presence of her very 
shadow the Princess Lamballe, as to excite in her ma- 
jesty an eager desire for the opportunity of hearing 
me, which the princess volunteered to obtain, by going 
herself to the convent next morning with Sacchini. It 
was enjoined upon the composer, as I afterwards learn- 
ed, that he was neither to apprize me who her highness 
was, nor to what motive I was indebted for her visit. 
To this Sacchini readily agreed, adding, after disclosing 
to them my connexions and situation, — ^' Your majesty 
will be perhaps still more surprised, when I, as an Italian, 
and her German master, who is a German, declare, that 
she speaks both these languages like a native, thou^^h 
born in England ; and is as well disposed to the Catholic 
faith;, and as well versed in it, as if she had been a mem- 
ber of that church all her life." 

This last observation decided my future good fortune i \ 
there was no interest in the minds of the queen and 
princess pa'ramount to that of making proselytes to their 
creed. 

The princess, faithful to her promise, accompanied 
Sacchini. Whether it was chance, ability, or good for- 
tune, let me not attempt to conjecture ; but, from that 
moment, I became the protegee of this ever- regretted 
angel. Political circumstances presently facilitated her 
introduction of me to the queen. My combining a readi- 
ness in the Italian and German languages, with my know- 
ledge of English and French, greatly promoted my power 
of being useful at that crisis, which, with some claims to 
their confidence of a higher order, made this august, la- 
mented injured pair, more like mothers to me than mis- 
tresses, till we were parted by their miirder« 



INTRODUCTION, H 

The circumstances I have just mentioned show, that 
to mere curiosity, the characteristic passion of our sex, 
and so often its ruin, I am to ascribe the introduction, 
which was only prevented, by events unparallelled in 
history, from proving the most fortunate in my life, as 
it is the most cherished in my recollection. 

It will be seen, in the course of the following pages, 
how often I was employed on confidential missions, fre- 
quently by myself, and, in some instances, as the atten- 
dant of the princess. The nature of my situation, the 
trust reposed in me, the commissions with vihich I was 
honoured, and the affecting charges of which I was the 
bearsr, flattered my pride, and determined me to make 
myself an exception to the rule, that ^^ no woman can 
keep a secret." Few ever knew exactly where I was, 
wl/at I was doing, and much less the importance of my 
oGiupation. I had passed from England to France, made 
t*'o journeys to Italy and Germany, three to the arch- 
duchess Maria Christiana, governess of the Low Coun- 
tries, and returned back to France, before any of my 
friends in England were aware of my retreat, or of ray 
ever having accompanied the princess. Though my let- 
ters were written and dated at Paris, they were all for- 
warded to England by way of Holland or Germany, that 
no clue should be given for annoyances from idle curio- 
•jsity. It is to this discreetness, to this inviolable secrecy, 
firmness, and fidelity, which I so early in life displayed 
to the august personages, who stood in need of such 
'!& person, that I owe the unlimited confidence of my il- 
lustrious benefactress, through which I was furnished with 
the valuable materials I am now submitting to the Pub- 
lic. 

I was repeatedly a witness, by the side of the Princess 

.-amballe, of the appalling scenes of the bonnet rouge, 

cf murders a la lanterney and of numberless criminal in- 



12 INTRODITCTION. 

suits to the unfortunate royal family of Louis XVL,when 
the queen was generally selected as the most marked vic- 
tim of malicious indignity. Having had the honour of 
£0 often beholding this much-injured queen, and never 
without remarking how amiable in her manners, how con- 
descendingly kind in her deportment towards every one 
about her, how charitably generous, and, withal, how 
beautiful she was ; — I looked upon her as a model of per- 
fection. But when I found the public feeling so much at 
variance with my own, the difference became utterly un- 
accountable^ I longed for some explanation of the mys- 
tery. One day I was insulted in the Thuilleries, be^jause 
I had alighted from my horse to walk there without wear- 
ing the national ribbon. On this I met the princess : 
the conversation which grew out of my adventure, em- 
boldened me to question her on a theme to me inexpli- 
cable. 

^^What," asked I, '^can it be, which makes the ped' 
pie so outrageous against the queen ?'' *" 

Her highness condescended to reply in the complimen- 
tary terras which I am about to relate, but without a;n- 
swering my question. 

<»My dear friend!'' exclaimed she, "f*^ for from this 
moment I beg you will consider me in that light, — never 
having been blessed with children of my own, I feel 
there is no way of acquitting myself of the obligations 
you have heaped upon me by the fidelity with which you 
have executed the various commissions entrusted to your 
charge, but by adopting you as one of my own family. I 
am satisfied witli you, yes, highly satisfied with you, op 
the score of your religious principles ;* and as soon as 
the troubles subside, and we have a little calm after them, 

* I was at that time, l>y her orders, under examination by Mon 
sieur de Brienne, for being confirmed to receive the sacrament. 



INTRODUCTION. 23 

my father-in-law and myself will be present at the cere- 
mony of your confirmation. '^ 

The goodness of my benefactress silenced me : grati- 
tude would not allow me to persevere for the moment. 
But from what I had already seen of her majesty the 
queen, I was too much interested to lose sight of my ob- 
ect, — not, let me be believed, from idle womanish cu- 
riosity, but from that real, strong, personal interest, which 
I, in common with all who ever had the honour of being 
in her presence, felt for that much-injured, most engag- 
ing sovereign. • 

A propitious circumstance unexpectedly occurred, 
'vhich gave me an opportunity, without any appearance 
f oMcious earnestness, to renew the attempt to gain the 
end I had in view. 

I was riding in the carriage with the Princess Lam- 
balle, when a lady drove by, who saluted my benefactress 
vith marked attention and respect. There was some- 
thing in the manner of the princess, after receiving the 
salute, which impelled me, spite of myself, to ask who 
the lady was. 

'^ Madame de Genlis," exclaimed her highness, with 
a shudder of disgust, *^ that lamb's face with a wolf's 
heart, and a fox's cunning." Or, to quote her own Ital- 
ian phrase which I have here translated, " colle faccia 
d-agnello, il cuore dhm lupo, e la dritura delta volpe.'^^ 

In the course of these pages, the cause of this strong 
feeling against Madame de Genlis will be explained. To 
dwell on it now, would only turn me aside from my nar- 
rative. To pursue my story, therefore — 

When we arrived at my lodgings (which were then, 
for private reasons, at the Irish Convent, where Sacchi|ii, 
and other masters attended to further me in the accom- 
plishments of the fine arts.) *^^Sing me sometliing,'' 
said the princess, '«^ Caw^a/e mi fualche cosa,^^.f^ for 1 



14 INTRODUCTION. 

never see that woman" (meaning Madame de Genlis) 
'^ but I feel ill and out of humour. I wish it may not 
be the foreboding of some great evil !" 

I sang a little rondo, in which her highness and the 
queen always delighted, and which they would never 
set me free without making me sing, though 1 had given 
them twenty before it.* Her highness honoured me 
with even more than usual praise. I kissed the hand 
which had so generously applauded my infant talents, and 
said, " Now, my dearest princess, as you are so kind and 
good-humoured, tell me sotnething about the queen P' 

She looked at me with her eyes full of tears. For an 
instant they stood in their sockets as if petrified : and 
then, after a pause, '^ I cannot,'' answered she in Itiilian, 
as she usually did, "I cannot refuse you anything." 
'^ JVon posso negarti niente.^^ It would take me an age 
to tell you the many causes which have conspired against 
this niuchrinjured queen! I fear none, who are near hep 
person, will escape the threatening storm, that hovers 
over our heads. The leading causes of the clamour 
against her have been, if you must know, Nature ; her 
beauty; her power of pleasing; her birth; her rank; 
her marriage ; the king himself; her mother; her im- 
perfect education ; and, above all, her unfortunate par- 
tialities for the Abbe Vermond ; for the Duchess de Po- 
lignac ; for myself, perhaps ; and last, but not least, the 
thorough unsuspecting goodness of her heart ! 

"But, since you seem to be so much concerned for her 
exalted, persecuted majesty, you shall have a Journal I 
myself began on my first coming to France, and which I 
have continued ever since I have been honoured with the 

* The rondo I allude to was written by Sarti, for the celebrated 
Marchesi, Lungi da te ben n%io, and is the same in which he was 
so successful in England, when he introduced it in London in the 
opera of Giuib Sabino. 



INTRODUCTION. 15 

confidence of her majesty, in graciously giving me that 
unlooked-for situation at the head of her household, which 
honour and justice prevent my renouncing under any 
difficulties, and which I never will quit but with my 
life !" 

She wept as she spoke, and her last words were almdst 
choked with sobs. 

Seeing her so much affected, I humbly begged pardon 
for having unintentionally caused her tears, and begged 
permission to accompany her to the Thuilleries. 

^^ No,'' said she, ^^ you have hitherto conducted your- 
self with a profound prudence, which has ensured you 
my confidence. Do not let your curiosity change your 
system. You shall have the Journal. But be careful. 
Read it only by yourself, and do not show it to any one. 
On these conditions you shall have it." 

I was in the act of promising, when her highness stop- 
ped me. 

^*I want no particular promises. I have sufiicient 
proofs of your adherence to truth. Only answer me sim- 
ply in the afiirmative.'' 

I said I would certainly obey her injunctions most re- 
ligiously. 

She then left me, and directed, that I should walk in 
a particular part of the private alleys of the Thuilleries 
between three and four o'clock in the afternoon. I did 
so 5 and from her own hand I there received her private 
Journal. 

In the following September of this ^ame year (1793) 
she was murdered ! 

Journalising copiously, for the purpose of amassing au- 
thentic materials for the future historian, was always a 
favourite practice of the French, and seems to have been 
particularly in vogue in the age I mention. The press 
has sent forth whole libraries of these records since the 



jg INTRODUCTION. 

revolution, and it is notorious, that Louis XV. left Secret 
Memoirs, written by his own hand, of what passed before 
this convulsion; and, had not the papers of the Thuil- 
leries shared in the wreck of royalty, it would have been 
seen, that Louis XVL had made some progress in the me- 
moirs of his time ; and even his beautiful and unfortu- 
nate queen had herself made extensive notes and collec- 
tions for the record of her own disastrous career. Hence 
it must be obvious, how one so nearly connected in situa- 
tion and suffering with her much-injured mistress, as the 
Princess Lamballe, would naturally fall into a similar ha- 
bit, had she even no stronger temptation than fashion and 
example. But self-communion, by means of the pen, is 
invariably the consolation of strong feeling, and reflecting 
minds under great calamities, especially when their in- . 
tercourse with the world has been checked or poisoned 
by its malice. 

The editor of these pages herself fell into the habit 
of which she speaks; and it being usual with her be- 
nefactress to converse with all the unreserve, which every 
honest mind shows when it feels it can confide, her hum- 
ble attendant, not to lose facts of such importance, com- 
monly made notes of what she heard. In any other per- 
son's hands the Journal of the princess would have been 
incomplete ; especially as it was written in a rambling 
manner, and was never intended for publication- But 
connected by her confidential conversations with me, and 
the recital of the events to which I personally bear tes- 
timony, I trust *it will be found the basis of a satisfac- 
tory record, which I pledge myself to be a true one. 

I do not know, however, that at my time of life, and 
after a lapse of thirty years,. I should have been roused 
to the arrangement of the papers, which I have combined 
to form this narrative, had I not met with the work of 
Madame Campan upon the same subject. 



INTRODUCnON. j^ 

This lady has said much that is true respecting the 
queen; but she has omitted much, and much she has mis- 
represented; not, I dare say, purposely; but frotnag- 
norance, and being wrongly informed. She was often 
absent from the service, and, on such occasions, must 
have been compelled to obtain her knowledge at se- 
cond-hand. She herself told me, in 1803, at Ecouen, 
that, at a very important epoch, the peril of her life 
forced her from the seat of action. With the Princess 
Lamballe, who was so much about the queen, she never 
had any particular connexion. The princess certainly 
esteemed her for her devotedness to the queen ; but there 
was a natural reserve in the princess' character, and a 
mistrust, resulting from circumstances, of all those who 
saw much company, as Madame Carapan did. Hence, 
no intimacy was encouraged. Madame Carapan never 
came to the princess, without being sent for. 

An attempt has been made, since the revolution, utterly 
to destroy all faith in the alleged attachment of Madame 
Carapan to the queen, by the fact of her having received 
the daughters of many of the regicides, for education, 
into her establishment at Ecouen, Far be it from me to 
sanction so unjust a censure. Although what I mention 
hurt her character very much in the estimation of her 
former friends, and constituted one of the grounds of the 
dissolution of her establishment at Ecouen, on the re- 
storation of the Bourbons, and may possibly, in some de- 
gree, have deprived her of such aids from their adhe- 
rents, as might have made her work unquestionable, — 
yet, what else, let me ask, could have been done by one 
dependent upon her exertions for support, and in the 
power of Napoleon's family and his emissaries? On the con- 
trary, I would give my public testimony in favour of the 
fidelity of her feelings, though in many instances I must 
withhold it from the fidelty of her narrative. Her be- 

C 



23 INTRODUCTION. 

ing Utterly isolated from the illustrious individual nearest to 
the queen, must necessarily leave much to be desired in 
her record. During the vfhole term of the Princess Lam- 
balle's superintendance of the queen's household, Madame 
Campan never had any special communication with my 
benefactress, excepting once, about the things which were 
to go to Brussels, before the journey to Varennes ; and 
once again, relative to a person of the queen's household, 
who had received the visits of Petion, the mayor of Pa- 
ris, at her private lodgings. This last communication I 
myself particularly remember, because, on that occasion, 
the princess, addressing me in her own native language, 
Madame Campan, observing it, considered me as an Ita- 
lian, till, by a circumstance I shall presently relate, she 
was undeceived. 

I should anticipate the order of events, and incur the 
necessity of speaking twice of the same things, were I 
here to specify the express errors in the work of Madame 
Campan. Suffice it now, that I observe, generally, her 
want of knowledge of the Princess Lamballe ; her omis- 
sion of many of the most interesting circumstances of 
the revolution ; her silence upon important anecdotes of 
the king, the queen, and several members of the first 
assembly ; her mistakes concerning the Princess Lam- 
balle's relations with the Dutchess de Polignac, Count de 
Fersan, Mirabeau, the Cardinal de Rohan, and others ; 
her great miscalculation of the time when the queen's 
confidence in Barnave began, and when that of the em- 
press mother in Rohan ended ; her misrepresentation of 
particulars relating to Joseph the Second : and her blun- 
ders concerning the affair of the necklace, and regarding 
the libel Madame Lamotte published in England with 
the connivance of Calonne :-— all these will be considered, 
with numberless other statements, equally requiring cor- 
rection IE their turr. What she has omitted, I trust I 



INTHODUCTION. i9 

shall supply ; and where she has gone astray, I hope to 
set her right ; that between the two, the future biogra- 
pher of my august benefactresses may be in no want of 
authentic materials, to do full justice to their honoured 
memories. 

I saidj in a preceding paragraph, that I should relate 
a circumstance about Madame Campan, which happened 
after she had taken me for an Italian, and before she was 
aware of my being in the service of the princess. 

Madame Campan, though she had seen me not pnly at 
the time I mention, but before and after, had always pass- 
ed me without notice. One Sunday, when in the gallery 
of the Thuilleries with Madame de Stael, the queen, 
with her usual suite, of which Madame Campan formed 
one, was going, according to custom, to hear mass : her 
majesty perceived me, and most graciously addressed me 
in German. Madame Campan appeared greatly sur- 
prised at this, but walked on, and said nothing. Ever 
afterwards, however, she treated me, whenever we met, 
with marked civility. 

Another edition of Boswell to those who got a nod 
from Dr. Johnson ! 

The reader will find, in the course of this work, that 
on the 2nd of August, 1792, from the kindness and hu- 
manity of my august benefactresses, I was compelled to 
accept a mission to Italy, devised merely to send me from 
the sanguinary scenes, of which they foresaw they and 
theirs must presently become victims. Early in the fol- 
lowing month the Princess Lamballe was murdered. As 
my history extends beyond the period I have mention- 
ed, it is fitting I should explain the indisputable author- 
ities whence I derived such particulars as I did not see. 
A person, high in the confidence of the princess, 
through the means of the honest coachman, of whom I 
shall have occasion to speak, supplied me with regular 



20 INTRODUCTION. 

details of whatever took place, till she herself, with the 
rest of the ladies and other attendants, being separated 
from the royal family, was immured in the prison of La 
Force. When I returned to Paris, after this dire tem- 
pest, Madame Clery, and her friend, Madame de Beau- 
mont, a natural daughter of Louis XV., with Monsieur 
Chambon of Rheims, who never left Paris during the 
time, confirmed the correctness of my papers. The Ma- 
dame Clery I mention is the same who assisted her husband 
in his faithful attendance upon the royal family in the Tem- 
ple ; and this exemplary man added his testimony to the 
rest, in presence of the Dutchess de Guiche Grammont, at 
Pyrmont in Germany, when I there met him in the suite 
of the late sovereign of France, Louis XVIIL at a concert. 
After the 10th of August, I had also a continued corres- 
pondence with many persons at Paris, who supplied me 
with thorough accounts of the succeeding horrors in let- 
ters, directed to Sir William Hamilton, at Naples, and 
by him forwarded to me. And in addition to all these 
high sources, many particular circumstances have been 
disclosed to me by individuals, whose authority, when 
I have used it, I have generally affixed to the facts they 
have enabled me to communicate. 

It now only remains for me to mention, that I have en- 
deavoured to arrange every thing, derived, either from 
the papers of the Princess Lamballe, or from her re- 
marks ; my own observation, or the intelligence of others ; 
in chronological order. It will readily be seen by the 
reader where the princess herself speaks, as I have in- 
variably set apart my own recollections and remarks in 
paragraphs and notes, which are not only indicated by 
the heading of each chapter, but by the context of the 
passages themselves. I have also begun and ended what 
the princess says with an inverted comma. All the 
earlier part of the work, preceding her personal intfo- 



INTRODUCTION. 21 

duction, proceeds principally from her pen or her lips ; 
I have done little more than changed it from Italian into 
English, and embodied thoughts and sentiments, that 
were often disjointed and detached. And throughout, 
whether she, or others speak, I may safely say, this work 
will be found the most circumstantial, and assuredly the 
most authentic, upon the subject of which it treats, of 
any that has yet been presented to the public of Great 
Britain. The press has been prolific in fabulous writings 
upon these times, which have been devoured with avidity. 
I hope John Bull is not so devoted to gilded foreign fic- 
tions, as to spurn the unadorned truth from one of his 
downright country-women ; and let me advise him, en 
passant, not to treat us beauties of native growth with 
indifierence at home ; for we readily find compensation in 
the regard, patronage, and admiration of every nation 
in Europe.* I am old now, and may speak freely. 

* I wish it were in my power to include a certain lady in these 
kingdoms, who has recently written upon Italy, in my contrast 
Between British accuracy and foreign fable. This lady seems 
quite unencumbered by the fetters of truth. She has either 
been deceived, or would herself be the deceiver, respecting 
the replacing of the famous horses at Venice. I was present 
at that ceremony, and when I* cast my eyes over the fiction 
of Lady Morgan upon the subject, it made me grieve, to see 
the account of a country so very interesting, and to me endeared 
by a residence of nearly thirty years, among real friends of hu- 
manity and general good faith, drawn by a hand so unhesitatingly 
inaccurate. 

As for her account of the Emperor of Austria and Maria 
Louisa, — Maria Louisa had never been at Venice at the time she 
mentions. When she did come there, it was merely to condole 
with her imperial father for the loss of her cousin and mother-in- 
law, the Empress Lodovica, daughter of the Arch-duke of Mil^^ 
the thii-d wife of the emperor. This happened a considerable 
time after the restoration of the Golden Steeds of Lysippus. Be- 
sides, it was the Holy Week, Settimnonae Santa, when there are 



22 



INTRODUCTION. 



I have no interest whatever in the work I submit^ but 
that of endeavouring to redeem the character of so many 
injured victims. Would to heaven my memory were less 
acute, and that I could obliterate from the knowledge of 
the world and posterity the names of their infamous de- 
stroyers. I mean not the executioners, who terminated 
their mortal existence, for in their miserable situation, 
that early martyrdom was an act of grace : but I mean 
some, perhaps still living, who, with foul cowardice, 
stabbing, like assassins, in the dark, undermined their 
fair fame, and morally murdered them, long before their 
deaths, by daily traducing virtues the slanderers never 
possessed, from mere jealousy of the glory they knew 
themselves incapable of deserving. 

Montesquieu says, " If there be a God, he must be 
just!'' — ^That divine justice, after centuries, has been 
fully established on the descendants of the cruel, sangui- 
nary conquerors of South America, and its butchered 
harmless emperor Montezuma, and his innocent offspring, 
who are now teaching Spain a moral lesson, in freeing 
themselves from its insatiable thirst for blood and wealth ; 
while God himself has refused that blessing to the Spa- 
never theatrical performances in any part of Italy. The court, 
too, irom the event I have stated, was in deep mourning. 

Sometimes, I myself may be misled, and papers, which have 
been thirty years undisturbed, may retain inaccuracies. Still, 
whenever I assert from hearsay, I have been careful,— at least, I 
have endeavoured so to do,— to save my credit under the shield, 
beneath which all writers have it in their power to take shelter, 
the never failing salva con dotta, the on dit. But neither the 
Count nor the Countess Cicognara, whatever their private rea- 
sons may be to be dissatisfied with the conduct of the Austrian 
government, relative to themselves, could ever have asserted such 
flagrant falsehoods to Lady Morgan; the circumstances being too 
notorious even to the Ciceroni of the Piazza, whose ignorance has 
spoiled the books of so maiiy of her ladyship's predecessors. 



INTRODUCTION, 23 

niards, which they denied to the Americans!*' — Oh, 
France ! what hast thou not already suiFered, and what 
hast thou not yet to suffer, when, to thee, like Spaitt, it 
shall visit their descendants, even unto the fourth gene- 
ration. 

To my insignificant losses in so mighty a ruin, perhaps 
I ought not to allude. I should not presume even to 
mention, that the fatal convulsion, which shook all Eu- 
rope, and has since left the nations in that state of agita- 
ted undulation, which succeeds a tempest upon the ocean, 
were it not for the opportunity it gives me to declare the 
bounty of my benefactresses. All my own property went 
down in the wreck ; and the mariner who escapes only 
with his life can never recur to the scene of his escape 
without a shudder. Many persons are still living, of the 
first respectability, who well remember my quitting this 
country, though very young, on the budding of a brilliant 
career. Had those prospects been followed up, they 
would have placed me beyond the caprice of fickle for- 
tune. But the dazzling lustre of crown favours and 
princely patronage outweighed the slow, though more 
solid hopes of self-achieved independence. I certainly 
was then almost a child, and my vanity, perhaps, of the 
honour of being useful to two such illustrious personages, 
got the better of every other sentiment. But now when 
I reflect, I look back with consternation on the many 

* The constitutional members, who were gloriously fighting in 
the field of liberty, to rescue a rising generation from tyranny, 
and superstitious bigotry, — (an operation, commenced onthefoun. 
dation of the law of the land, delegated to the nation by its cho- 
sen representatives, and sacredly guaranteed through the sanction 
of a constitutional king, who now, with the rest of the Spanish 
nation, is in jeopardy, a prisoner, and dependent on a foreign so- 
vereign)— now expiate, in turn, the bloody crimes of their ances- 
tors on the nations so long held by them in savage and unnatural 
bondage ! 



24 INTRODUCTION. 

times I stared death in the face, with no fear but |hat of 
being obstructed in my efforts to serve, even with my 
life, the interests dearest to my heart — that of implicit 
obedience to these truly benevolent and generous prin- 
cesses, who only wanted the means to render me as happy 
and independent, as their cruel destiny has since made 
me wretched and miserable ! Had not death deprived 
me of their patronage, I should have had no reason to re- 
gret any sacrifice I could have made for them ; for, 
through the princess, her majesty, unasked, had done 
me the honour to promise me the reversion of a most lu- 
crative, as well as highly respectable, post in her employ., 
In these august personages I lost my best friends ; I lost 
every thing — except the tears, which bathe the paper as 
I write- — tears of gratitude, which will never cease to flow 
to the memory of their martyrdom. 



( 25 ) 



CHAPTER I. 

Journal commenced. — Empress Maria Theresa, mother of Maria 
Antoinette, — Her political views in all the marriages of her 
daughters. — Fate of the Arch-dutchess Josepba. — On the death 
of Josepha, the Arch-dutchess Carolina weds the king of Na- 
ples. — Maria Theresa's remonstrance with the court of Naples, 
on her daughter's treatment. — The daughter remonstrates more 
promptly and effectually. — Maria Antionette destined for 

France. — Madame Pompadour. — French hatred to Austria, 

Vermond recommended by Brienne as Maria Antoinette's 
tutor. — He becomes a tool of Austria. — Limited education of 
Maria Antoinette. — Her fondness for balls and private plays. — 
Metastasio. — Du Barry. — Observations of the editor on Maria 
Theresa's sacrifice of her daughters to her policy. 

The character of Maria Theresa, the empress mother 
of Maria Antoinette, is sufficiently known. The same 
spirit of ambition and enterprise, which had already ani=> 
mated her contentions with France, in the latter part of 
her career impelled her to wish for its alliance. In addi- 
tion to other hopes, she had been encouraged to imagine, 
that Louis XV. might one day aid her in recovering the 
provinces which the king of Prussia had violently wrest- 
ed from her ancient dominions. She felt the many ad- 
vantages to be derived from a union with her ancient ene- 
my, and she looked for its accomplishment by the mar- 
riage of her daughter. 

' Policy, in sovereigns', is paramount to every other 
consideration. They regard beauty as a source of profit^ 
like managers of theatres, who, when a female candidate 
is offered, ask, whether she is young and handsome ? — 
not whether she has talent. Maria Theresa believed^ 

D 



26 CHAPTER Ic 

that Iier (laughter's beauty wduld have proved mare 
powerful over France than her own armies. Like Catha- 
rine the Second, her envied contemporary, she consulted 
no ties of nature in the disposal of her children ; a sys- 
tem more in character where the knout is the logician^ 
than among nations boasting higher civilization : indeed, 
her rivalry with Catharine, even made her grossly ne- 
glect their education. Jealous of the rising power of the 
North, she saw that it was the purpose of Russia to coun- 
teract her views in Poland and Turkey through France, 
and so totally forgot her domestic duties, in the desire to 
thwart the ascendancy of Catharine, that she often suf- 
fered eight or ten days to go by, v/ithout even seeing her 
children, allowing even the essential sources of instruc- 
tion to remain unprovided. Her very caresses were 
scarcely given but for display, when the children were 
admitted to be shown to some great personage ; and if 
they were overwhelmed with kindness, it was merely to 
excite a belief, that they were the constant care and com- 
panions of her leisure hours. When they grew up, they 
became the mere instruments of her ambition. The fate 
of one of them will show how their mother's worldliness 
was rewarded.* 

^ A leading object of Maria Theresa's policy was the 
attainment of influence over Italy : for this purpose she 
first married one of the arch-dutchesses to the imbecile 
Duke of Parma. Her second mancEuvre was to contrive, 
that Charles tlie Third should seek the Arch-dutchess 
Josepha for his younger son, the king of Naples, When 
every thing had been settled, and the ceremony, by 
proxy, had taken place, it was thought proper to sound 
the princess, as to how far she felt inclined to aid her 

* The princess, could she have looked into the book of fate, 
might have said the fate of two; but the most persecuted victim 
was not at that time sacrificed. 



CHAPTER I. 27 

motIier''s designs in the court of Naples. — " Scripture 
says/^ was her reply, <^ that when a woman is married, 
she belongs to the country of her husband." 

^ ^^ But the policy o*f state ?'^ exclaimed Maria The- 
resa. 

^ " Is that above religion ?" cried the princess. 

^ This unexpected answer of the arch-dutchess was so 
totally opposite to the views of the empress, that she was 
for a considerable time undecided whether she would al- 
low her daughter to depart, till, worn out by perplexi- 
ties, she at last consented, but bade the arch-dutchess, 
previous to setting off for this much-desired country of 
her new husband, to go down to the tombs, and, in the 
vaults of her ancestors, offer up to heaven a fervent pray- 
er for the departed souls of those she was about to leave, 

^ Only a few days before that, a princess had been bu- 
ried in the vaults, — I think Joseph the Second's second 
wife, who had died of the sjnall-pox. 

The Arch-dutchess Josepha obeyed her imperial mo- 
ther's cruel commands, took leave of all her friends and 
relatives, as if conscious of the result, caught the same 
disease, and, in a few days, died ! 

^The Arch-dutchess Carolina was now tutored, to be- 
come her sister's substitute, and, when deemed adequate- 
ly qualified, was sent to Naples, where she certainly ne- 
ver forgot she was an Austrian, nor the interest of the 
court of Vienna. One circumstance, concerning her and 
her mother, fully iHustrates the character of both. On 
the marriage, the arch-dutchess found, that Spanish eti- 
quette did not allow the queen to have the honour of dining 
at the same table as the king. She apprized her mother. 
Maria Theresa instantly wrote to the Marchese Tenucei, 
then prime minister at the court of Naples, to say, that 
if her daughter, now queen of Naples, was to be consi- 
dered less than the king her husband, she would send an 



28 CHAPTEB I, 

army to fetch her back to Vienna, and the king might 
purchase a Georgian slave, for an Austrian princess should 
not be thus humbled. Maria Therisa need not have 
given herself all this trouble, for/ before the letter ar- 
rived, the queen of Naples, had dismissed all the minis- 
try, upset the cabinet of Naples, and turned out even 
the king himself from her bed-chamber ! So much for 
the overthrow of Spanish etiquette by Austrian policy. 
The King of Spain became outrageous at the influence of 
Maria Theresa, but there was no alternative. 

^ The other daughter of the empress was married, as I 
have observed already, to the Duke of Parma, for the 
purpose of promoting the Austrian strength in Italy, 
against that of France, to which the court of Parma, as 
well as that of Modena, had been long attached. 

^ The fourth arch-dutchess, Maria Antoinette, being 
the youngest and most beautiful of the family, was des- 
tined for France. There were three older than Maria 
Antoinette ; but she, being much lovlier than her sisters, 
was selected on account of her charms. Her husband 
was never considered by the contrivers of the scheme : 
he was known to have no sway whatever, not even in the 
choice of his own wife ! But the character of Louis XV. 
was recollected, and calculations drawn from it, upon the 
probable power which youth and beauty might obtain 
over such a king and court. 

'It was during the time when Madame Pompadour 
directed, not only the king, but all France, with most 
despotic sway, that the union of the Arch-dutchess Ma- 
ria Antoinette with the grandson of Louis XV. was pro- 
posed. The plan received the warmest support of Choi- 
seul, then minister, and the ardent co-operation of Pom- 
padour. Indeed it was to her, the Duke De Choiseul, 
and the Count. De Mercy, the wjm\e aflair may be as- 
cribed. So highly was she flattered by the attention 



CHAPTER 1. 29 

with which Maria Theresa distinguished her, in conse- 
quence of her zeal, by presents, and by the title " dear 
cousin," which she used in writing to her, that she left 
no stone unturned till the proxy of the dauphin was sent 
to Vienna, to marry Maria Antoinnette in his name. 

^ All the interest by which this union was support- 
ed could not, however, subdue a prejudice against it, 
not only among many, of the court, the cabinet, and 
the nation, but in the royal family itself. France has 
never looked with complacency upon alliances with the 
house of Austria : enemies to this one avowed themselves 
as soon as it was declared. The daughters of Louis 
XV. openly expressed their aversion ; but the stronger in- 
fluence prevailed, and Maria Antoinette became the dau- 
phiness. 

* Brienne, Archbishop of Toulouse, and afterwards of 
Sens, suggested the appointment of the librarian of the 
college des Quatre Nations, the Abbe Vermond, as in- 
structor to the dauphiness in French. The. Abbe Ver- 
mond was accordingly despatched by Louis XV. to Vien- 
na. The consequences of this appointment will be seen 
in the sequel. Perhaps not the least fatal of them arose 
from his gratitude to the archbishop, who recommended 
him. In some years afterwards, influencing his pupil, 
when queen, to help Erienne to the ministry, he did her 
and her kingdommcre injury than their worst foes. Of 
the abbe's power over Maria Antoinette there are va- 
rious opinions ; of his capacity there is but one ; — he was 
superficial and cunning. On his arrival at Vienna, he 
became the tool of Maria Theresa. While there, he re- 
ceived a salary as the daughter's tutor, and, when he re- 
turned to France, a much larger one, as the mother's 
spy. He was more ambitious to be thought a great man, 
in his power over his 4)upil, than a rich one. He was 
too Jesuitical, to wish to be deemed rich. He knew, 



30 CHAPTER r. 

that superfluous emoluments would soon have overthmwB 
the authority he derived from conferring, rather than re- 
ceiving favours j and hence he never soared to any high- 
er post. He was generally considered to be disinterest- 
ed. How far his private fortunes benefited by his station 
has never appeared ; nor is it known, whether, by the 
elevation of his friend and patron to the ministry, in the 
time of Louis XVI., he gained any thing, beyond the 
gratification of vanity, from having been the cause : it is 
probable he did not, for, if he had, from the general 
odium against that promotion, no doubt it would have 
been exposed/ unless the influence of the queen was his 
protection, as it proved in so many cases where he grossly 
erred. From the first, he was an evil to Maria Antoi- 
nette ; and, ultimately, habit rendered him a necessary 
evil.* 

^ The education of the dauphiness was circumscribed * 
though very free in her manners, she was very deficient 
in other respects ; and hence it was she so much avoided 
all society of females who were better informed than her- 
self, courting in preference the lively tittle-tattle of the 
other sex, who were, in turn, better pleased with the 
gaieties of youth and beauty, than the more substantia! 
logical witticisms of antiquated court- dowagers. To this 
may be ascribed her ungovernable passion for great socie- 
ties, balls, masquerades, and all kinds of public and pri- 
vate amusements, as well as her subsequent attachment to 
the Dutchess de Polignac, who so much encouraged them 
for the pastime of her friend and sovereign. Thougli- 
naturally averse to every thing requiring study or appli- 
eation, Maria Antoinette was very assiduous in preparing 
herself for the parts she performed in the various come- 
dies, farces, and cantatas, given at her private theatre j 

* Upon these points more will be said hereafter. 



CHAPTER I. 31 

and their acquirement seemed to cost her no trouble. 
These innocent diversions became a source of calumny 
against her ; yet they formed almost j;he only part of her 
German education, about which Maria Theresa had been 
particular : the empress mother deemed them so valua- 
ble to her children that she ordered the celebrated Me- 
tastasio to write some of his most sublime cantatas for 
the evening recreations of her sisters and herself. And 
what can more conduce to elegant literary knowledge, or 
be less dangerous to the morals of the young; than do- 
mestic recitation of the finest flights of the intellect? 
Certain it is, that Maria Antoinette never forgot her 
idolatry of her master, Metastasio ; and it would have 
been well for her, had all concerned in her education 
done her equal justice. The Abbe Vermond encouraged 
these studies ; and the king himself afterwards sanctioned 
the translation of the works of his queen's revered in- 
structor, and their publication at her own expense, in a 
superb edition, that she might gratify her fondness the 
mere conveniently by reciting them in French.* When 
Maria Antoinette herself became a mother, and oppress- 
ed from the change of circumstances, she regretted much 
that she had not, in early life, cultivated her mind more 
extensively. " What a resource," would she exclaim, 
^<is a mind well stored against human casualties!" She 
determined to avoid, in her own offspring, the error of 
which she felt herself the victim, committed by her im- 
perial mother, for whose fault, though she suffered, she 
would invent excuses. '^ The empress," she would say, 

* Happy, thrice happy, had it been for Maria Antoinette, happy 
for France, happy perhaps for all Europe, had tliis taste never 
been thwarted. The mind, once firmly occupied in any parti- 
cular pursuit, is guarded against the danger arising from volatility 
and ennui. The mind, in want of an object of occupation con- 
genial to its youth and tendencies, often rushes unconsciously into 
errors, fatal to its peace, its reputation, and its existence. 



32 CHAPTEU i, 

^' was left a young widow, with ten or twelve cliildren | 
she had been accustomed, even during the emperor s life, 
to head her vast enkpire, and she thought it would be un- 
just, to sacrifice to her own children the welfare of the 
numerous family, which afterwards devolved upon her 
exclusive government and protection." 

' Most unfortunately for Maria Antoinette,* her great 
supporter, Madame de Pompadour, died before the arch- 
dutchess came to France. The pilot, who was to steer 
the young mariner safe into port, was no more, when she 
arrived at it. The Austrian interest had sunk with its 
patroness. The intriguers of the court no sooner saw 
the king without an avowed favourite, than they sought 
to give him one, who should farther their own views, 
and crush the Chosieul party, which had been sustained 
by Pompadour. The licentious Duke de Richelieu was 
the pander on this occasion. The low, vulgar Du Barry 
was by him introduced to the king, and Richelieu had 
the honour of enthroning a successor to Pompadour, and 
supplying Louis XV. with the last of his mistresses. Ma- 
dame de Grammont, who had been the royal confidante 
during the interregnum, gave up to the rising star. The 
effect of a new power was presently seen in new events. 
All the ministers known to be attached to the Austrian 
interest were dismissed ; and the time for the arrival of 
the young bride, the arch-dutchess of Austria, who was 
about to be installed Dauphiness of France, was at hand, 
and she came to meet scarcely a friend, and many foes : — 
of which even her beauty, her gentleness, and her sim- 
plicity, were doomed to swell the phalanx.' 

NOTE. 

The preceding pages of the Princess Lamballe excite 
reflections, which as editor, I cannot suffer to pass with- 

* And perhaps for all Europe, if we may judge from the result- 



% 



CHAPTEli I. . 33 

out a commentary of my own. My reflections are ground- 
ed upon what I know to have been in some degree the 
apprehensions of her highness ; but she did not live to 
see the fearful prophecies accomplished. I have oftea 
heard her utter many of the following sentiments, of 
which I may be deemed in part, therefore, only the tran- 
scriber : and the awful result has been a thorough illus- 
tration of the precision with which she judged. Some 
of my observations, it will be apparent, she could not 
have ^uttered; but I have every reason to believe, that 
she foresaw, as distinctly as mortal vision can look into 
futurity, those parts of what I am about to state, which 
though her thoughts dwelt upon, her discretion would 
not let her name. It is this which gives to her unwaver- 
ing devotedness to the queen, amid a consciousness of the 
inevitable denouement, all the grace of martyrdom, 

Maria Theresa was greatly deceived in the specula- 
tions she had formed, in her private cabinet at Vienna^ 
upon her daughter's marriage, and the influence she 
hoped to gain from that event over the cabinet of France, 
to imagine for a moment, that she acted from any view to 
her daughter's happiness or aggrandisement would be ab- 
surd. Her real views were built on error. The hostile 
feeling against Austria was too strong in France to be 
overcome by state policy, and she was only preparing a 
scaiFold for her child, where she meditated a triumph for 
herself ! She sacrificed every thing to her ambition, and 
in her ambition she was punished. Had Maria Theresa 
been less cruel after the battle of Prague, perhaps the 
French nation would have been kinder to her child. 
There may be no rule without an exception ; but there 
is one inculcated by the mystery of religion, instituted 
by the word of the Supreme himself, — by that primitive 
food wherewith our intellects are nourished, — by that 
school and guide of our infancy, — by that conductor of 

E 



34 CHAPTER I. 

our vouth;, — by that pilot, which steers us with rectitude 
into the liarbous of maturity : — that holy book declares 
wishout reserve, Do as ye would be done by, or ye shall 
be visited to the third and fourth generation! How 
scrupulously just then ought the head of a family to be in 
dealing with others ! Not but I conceive it the duty of 
every individual to act righteously ; but of parents it is 
a special duty. And if more awful the responsibility 
upon parents, how tremendous must it be upon rulers I 
Look at the example Maria Theresa set her children ! 
What lessons has she given them, as a mother ? Whaty 
as a monarch ? The violent usurpation of Mantua from 
the princely family of the Gonzagas, and the partition of 
Poland, form the answer ! But there is a madness in 
power, which prevails even over nature, and often over 
interest itself, when it seeks the attainment of any speci- 
lie end. Silesia, in the consideration of Maria Theresa, 
outweighed all others. Of the same stamp was the head- 
long pertinacity of Louis XIV. He waged war against 
almost all Europe, to destroy the Austrian influence in 
Spain, and, with his own, to place Philip V. his grand- 
son, on the throne of Iberia. From state policy he as 
readily agreed to subsidize Great Britain, in order to 
tear asunder the very crown, Vvhich he himself had ce- 
mented V. ith the blood and treasures of his subjects ; and 
tried his utmost, to hurl from the throne a prince seated 
on it, at the risk of losing his own ! It was for political 
intrigue Maria Antoinette was sent to France, — or rather, 
a family cons pact, under which title the true purpose is 
disguised in royal marriages, and by political intrigue she 
fell into snares fatal to her peace. 



( 35 ) 



CHAPTER II. 

Editor's remarks on erroneous statements of Madame Garapan. — 
Journal resumed. — Dauphin on his wedding-night and the next 
morning. — Court intrigues begin. — Daughters of Louis XV. — 
Their influence on the dauphin, und dislike of his young bride. 
Maria Antoinette's distaste for etiquette, and love of simplicity. 
Court taste for hoop-dresses accounted for. — Madame de 
Noailles.~Her horror at not having been summoned on an oc- 
casion of delicacy. — Duke de Vauguyon takes a dislike to 
Maria Antoinette. — Cabal between Vermond and Madame 
Marsan. — Du Barry jealous of the dauphiness. — Richelieu. — 
Three ladies leave the supper-table of Louis XV'. from Du Bar- 
ry being there. — Remonstrance of the dauphiness to her mother 
on being made to sup with Du Barry. — Answer. — Count d'Ar- 
tois and Monsieur return from travelling. — Are charmed with 
Maria Antoinette. — Scandal respecting d'Artois and the dau- 
phiness. — Changes wrought by court marriages. — Remonstrance 
of Maria Theresa to the French court. — Dutchess de Gram- 
mont. — Louis XV. intrigues to divorce the dauphin and marry 
the dauphiness. — Diamond necklace first ordered by Louis XV. 
as a present to his hoped-for-bride. — Dauphin complains of the 
distance of his apartment from that of his wife. — All parties 
intrigue to get Maria Antoinette sent back to Austria. 

Before I return to the Journal of the Princess Lam- 
balie, as it falls into the regular chronological arrange- 
ment, let me give a passing moment to the more recent 
biographer of Maria Antoinette, Madame Campan. Her 
description of the first appearance of her majesty at 
Kehl, where the change took place from the Austrian 
wardrobe to the French, according to the prescribed eti- 
quette on those occasions, is so strikingly characteristic of 
that unfortunate princess, that I cannot avoid referring 
to it, though I much doubt the authenticity of some of 



S!6 CHAPTER II. 

its details. The reader, however, will see a glimmer of 
.the bewitching simplicity of its subject through all the 
errors of the narrative ; whence it will be evident, how 
inestimable a gem this princess would have proved,' had 
she been left in her rough German artlessness. 

In page 45, chapter 3, Madame Campan says, — '^^ When 
the dauphiness had been entirely undressed^ even to her 
hody linen and stockings, in order that she might retain 
nothing belo?iging to a foreign court. — the doors were 
opened /" — mark, in a state no less than that of the lady 
Godiva, — " the young princess came forward.^* — not 
even en chemise, — as the horse jockeys do at New-mar- 
ket, I suppose, in order to be weighed, before they 
mount the steed ! — But let us go on, — " came forward,^^ 
cooly, she should have said, — ^'* Looking round for the 
Countess de JVoaillesJ^ 

Now^ among Hottentots, or some of those Egyptian fe- 
males* who conceive the face to be the most sacred part 
of the human frame, and who, when surprised drawing 
water at the well or fountain, to fill their jars, do, in or- 
der to prevent the men from seeing them, actually throw 
up their clothing, even to the body linen, to hide their 
faces ! — among these, I say such an exhibition might be 
possible : but that an Austrian princess should, like a 
maniac, have been thus exposed to the contemplation of 
some forty or fifty idle gazers ! — can such a thing be cre- 
dited? 

* General Menou, when governor of Venice, told rae, among 
other circumstances, that the great hatred of the Egyptians against 
the French, rose from their having violated many Egyptian fe- 
males, on the exhibition of what other nations generally conceal; 
and several innocent and respectable persons were thus sacrificed 
to the brutality of the soldiers. He said he could not pronounce 
whether the custom was universal, but in some villages he had 
witnessed it himself. 



CHAPTER II. 37 

^' Thm^ — continues Madame Campan, — '^ rushing 
into her arms,'^ — which I dare say she did, if it was 
cold, — '' she implored her^' — ^^ implored !" — a word that 
is very seldom in the mouth of princesses, and much less 
in that of the high-mettled race of an Austrian arch- 
dutchess like Maria Antoinette. — But once more to the 
text : — ^' implored her^ with tears in her eyes, and with 
a heart-felt sincerity, to direct her, to advise her, and to 
he in every respect, her future guide and support /" 

Upon this, Madame Campan observes, " It was impos- 
sible to refrain from admiring her aerial deportment: 
her smile was sufficient to win the heart ; and in this 
enchanting being, the splendour of French gaiety shone 
forth P' 

I have often heard splendour and dignity coupled to- 
gether ; but I do not remember the union of gaiety and 
splendour. No doubt it is correct, however, as a French 
woman, who has been the instructress of princesses, has 
written it. 

To proceed with Madame Campan : — '' »S.n indescriba- 
ble, but august serenity , perhaps also the somewhat proud 
position of her head and shoulders, betrayed the daugh- 
ter of the Csesars.^' 

However the word betrayed is here misapplied, — (and 
I myself should have used pourtrayed, unfolded, or de- 
monstrated : which I think, with all due submission to 
the compiler or composer of Madame Campan's work, 
would have been more appropriate than the word be- 
trayed,) — the remark is thoroughly correct. Such were 
indeed the head and shoulders of Maria Antoinette. 
Their beauty was the envy of the one sex, and the source 
of much abominable detraction in those, who might not 
approach it, of the other. 

There are no doubt many inconveniences inseparable 
from the etiquette of royal marriages, and many more 



38 CHAPTER lU 

which spring from chance. I have read somewhere of a 
prox)^; who came so near the bride, as to prick her with 
his spur ; which certainly was not the intention of the 
royal spouse. But I am much disposed to believe^ com- 
paring the forms on the marriage of Maria Antoinette 
with those observed with others of her husbands family 
at the same period, as well as with her own excessive 
modesty, that in this instance, as in many others, she has 
been misrepresented. I should rather conceive the 
etiquette to have been similar to that adopted, when the 
Princess Clotilda, the sister of Louis XVI. was consigned 
over to the Piedmontese ladies of the court of Turin. A 
large wardrobe of different dresses of every kind met her 
at the last frontier town of France. There she put on 
the clothes provided for the purpose, returning those she 
brought to the persons who saw her out of France. No 
public dressing or undressing was thought of, and she 
was by far too fat, to run, in puris naturalihus, into the 
arms of any lady of honour, who might not be of the 
most uncourtly dimensions. Such, also, was the mode 
pursued, v/hen Madame and her sister the Countess 
D^Artois, both princesses of Piedmont, were married to 
the two brothers of Louis XVL No indelicate display 
like that, which Madame Campan describes as having 
taken place under the Countess de Noailles, was exacted 
from either of the brides. And why should such an ex- 
ception have been made in the case of the young Austri- 
an? Indeed (and I speak here from the authority of ray 
papers,) so scrupulous was Maria Antoinette in her ob- 
servance of modesty and decorum, that she was laughed 
at by the young princes and nobles, for withdrawing with 
her tire woman, to have her hair arranged in private ; 
because her toilette being the usual morning rendezvous 
of all belonging to the court, she could not reconcile it 
to her feelings, to follow the precedent of all former 



CHAPTER II. 39 

daupbinesses and queens, by allowing even this slight 
ceremony to be performed about her person, pro bono 
publico. Is it at all likely, then, that she could have 
consented, under any circumstances, to the exposure 
Madame Campan has described? But enough of this: I 
resume my editorial functions, and return to the more 
agreeable narrative of the Princess of Lamballe. 



^ On the marriage night, Louis XV. said gaily to the 
dauphin, who was supping with his usual heartiness, — 
^'' Don't overcharge your stomach to-night." 

i a Why, I always sleep best after a hearty supper,'^ 
replied the dauphin, .viih the greatest coolness. 

^ The supper being ended, he accompanied his dau- 
phiness to her chamber, and at the door, with the great- 
est politeness, wished her a good night. Next morning, 
upon his saying, when he met her at breakfast, that he 
hoped she had slept well, Maria Antoinette replied, 
"Excellently well, for I had no one to disturb me!" 

' The Princess de Guemenee, who was then at the 
head of the household, on hearing the dauphiaess moving 
very early in her apartment, ventured to enter it, and 
not seeing the dauphin, exclaimed, ^^ Bless me ! he is 
risen as usual !" — '^ Whom do you mean ?" asked Maria 
Antoinette. — The princess, misconstruing the interro- 
gation, was going to retire, when the dauphiness said, 
" 1 have heard a great deal of French politeness, but I 
think I am married to the most polite of the nation !'- — 
" What then, he is risen ?" — " No, no, no!" exclaimed 
the dauphiness — ^' there has been no rising ; he has 
never lain down here. He left me at the door of my 
apartment, with his hat in his hand, and hastened from 
me, as if embarrassed with my person !" 

' After Maria Antoinette became a mother she would 
often laugh and tell Louis XVL of his. bridal politenes^ 



40 CHAPTER II. 

and ask him, if, in the interim between that and the eon- 
summation, he had studied his maiden aunts or his tutor 
on the subject. On this, he would laugh most exces- 
sively. 

* Scarcely was Maria Antionette seated in her new 
country, before the virulence of court intrigue against 
her became active. She was beset, on all sides, by ene- 
mies open and concealed, who never slackened their per- 
secutions. All the family of Louis XV. consisting of 
those maiden aunts of the dauphin, just adverted to 
(among whom Madame Adelaide was specially implaca- 
ble,) were incensed at the marriage, not only from their 
hatred to Austria, but because it had accomplished the 
ambition of an obnoxious favourite, to give a wife to the 
dauphin of their kingdom. On the credulous and timid 
mind of the prince, then in the leading-strings of this 
pious sisterhood, they impressed the misfortunes to his 
country and to the interest of the Bourbon family, which 
must spring from the Austrian influence through the 
medium of his bride. No means were left unessayed to 
steel him against her sway. I remember once to have 
heard her Majesty remark to Louis XVL in answer to 
some particular observations he made, ^^ These, Sire, 
are the sentiments of our aunts, I am sure." — And in- 
deed great must have been their ascendancy over him in 
youth ; for, up to a late date he entertained a very high 
respect for their capacity and judgment. Great indeed 
must it have been, to have prevailed against all the se- 
ducing allurements of a beautiful and fascinating young 
bride, whose amiableness, vivacity, and wit became the 
universal admiration, and whose graceful manner of ad- 
dress few ever equalled, and none ever surpassed ; nay^ 
even so to have prevailed, as to form one of the great 
sources of his aversion to consummate the marriage ! — 
Since the death of the late queen, their mother, tliese 



CHAPTKR II 41 

four princesses (who, it was said, if old maids, were not 
so from choice) had received and performed the exclu- 
sive honours of the court. It could not have diminish- 
ed their dislike for the young and lovely new-comer, to 
see themselves under the necessity of abandoning their 
dignities, and giving up their station. So eager were 
they to contrive themes of complaint against her, that, 
when she visited them in the simple attire in which she 
so much delighted, sans cermonie, unaccompanied by a 
troop of horse and a squadron of foot-guards, they com- 
plained to their father, who hinted to Maria Antoinette, 
that such a relaxation of the royal dignity would be at- 
tended with considerable injury to French manufactures, 
to trade, and to the respect due to her rank. — <^My 
state and court dresses," replied she, ^^ shall not be less 
brilliant than those of any former dauphiness, or queen 
of France, if such be the pleasure of the king, — but to 
my grand-papa I appeal for some indulgence, with re- 
spect to my undress private costume of the morning."* 

' It was dangerous for one in whose conduct so many 
prying eyes wxre seeking for sources of accusation, to 
gratify herself even by the overthrow of an absurdity, 
when that overthrow might incur the stigma of innova- 
tion. The court of Versailles was jealous of its Span- 
ish inquisitorial etiquette. It had been strictly wedded 
to its pageantries since the time of the great Anne of 
Austria. The sagacious and prudent provisions of this 
illustrious contriver were deemed the ne plus ultra of 
royal female policy. A cargo of whalebone was yearly 
obtained by her, to construct such stays for the maids of 
honour, as might adequately conceal the court accidents, 

* Trifling however as Maria Antoinette deemed these cavils 
about dress and etiquette, they contained the elements of her 
future fall. 

F 



42 CflAFTtR If. 

which generally,— poor ladies! — befel them in rotation 
every nine months. 

' But Maria Antoinette could not sacrifice her predi- 
lection for a simplicity quite English^, to prudential con- 
siderations. Indeed she was too young to conceive it 
even desirable. So much did she delight in being un- 
shackled by finery, that she would hurry from court, to 
fiing off her royal robes and ornaments, exclaiming, 
when freed from them,— ^^ Thank Heaven, I am out 
of harness!'^ 

^ But she had natural advantages, which gave her ene- 
mies a pretext for ascribing this antipathy to the esta- 
blished Ihsbion to mere vanity. It is not impossible, that 
she :?-^is:ht. have derived some pleasure from displaying a 
f!s5:orfi so b?\i:tt<fu], with no adornment except its native 
£';rarci\!ii>ess; but how great must have been the chagrin 
of the princesses, of many of the court ladies, indeed of 
all in any way ungainly or deformed, when called to ex- 
hibit themselves by the side of a bewitching person like 
hers, unaided by the whalebone and horse-hair paddings, 
with which they had hitherto been made up, and which 
placed the best form on a level with the worst? The 
prudes, who practised illicitly, and felt the convenience 
of a guise, which so well concealed the effect of their 
frailties, were neither the least formidable, nor the least 
numerous of the enemies created by this revolution of 
costume; and the dauphiness was voted by common con- 
sent — for what greater crime could there be in France ? 
> — the heretic Martin Luther of female fashions! The 
four princesses, her aunts, were as bitter against the dis- 
respect with which the dauphiness treated the armour, 
which they called dress, as if they themselves had bene- 
fited by the immunities it could confer. 

^ Indeed, most of the old court ladies embattled them- 
selves against Maria Antoinette's encroachments upon 



CHAPTER If. 43 

their habits. The leader of them was a real medallion, 
whose costume, character and notions, spoke a genealogy 
perfectly antediluvian ; who even to the latter days of 
Louis XV. amid a court so irregular, persisted in her 
precision. So systematic a supporter of the antique, 
could be no other than the declared foe of any charge, 
and, of course, deemed the desertion of large sack 
gowns, monstrous court hoops, and the old notions of 
apendages attached to them, for tight waists and short 
petticoats, an awful demonstration of the depravity of 
the time!*' 

^This lady had been first lady to the sole queen of 
Louis XV. She was retained in the same station for Ma- 
ria Antoinette. Her motions were regulated like clock- 
work. So methodical was she in all her operations of 
mind and body, that, from the beginning of the year to 
its end, she never deviated a moment. Every hour had 
its peculiar occupation. Her element was etiquette, but 
the etiquette of ages before the flood. She had her 
rules even for the width of petticoats, that the queens 
and princesses might have no temptation to straddle over 
a rivulet, or crossing, of unroyal size. 

* The queen of Louis XV. having been totally subser- 
vient in her movements nigiit and day to the wishes of 
the Countess de Noailles, it will be readily conceived, 
how great a shock this lady must have sustained, on be- 
ing informed one morning, that the dauphiness had ac- 
tually risen in the night, and her ladyship not by to wit- 
ness a ceremony, from which most ladies would have felt 
no little pleasure in being spared, but which, on this oc- 
casion, admitted of no delay ! Notwithstanding the dau- 



* The editor needs scarcely add, that the aUusion of the prin- 
cess is to Madame de Noailles. 



44 CHAPTER IT. 

pliincss excused herself by the assurance of the urgency 
allowing no time to call the countessj she nearly fainted^ 
at not having been present at that which others some- 
times faint at, if too near! — This unaccustomed \vatch- 
fulness so annoyed Maria Antionette, that, determined to 
laugh her out of it, she ordered an immense bottle of 
hartshorn to be placed upon her toilette. Being asked 
what use was to be made of the hartshorn, she said, it 
was to prevent her first lady of honour from falling into 
hysterics, when the calls of nature were uncivil enough 
to exclude her from being of the party. This, as may 
be presumed, had its desired effect, and Maria Antoi- 
nette was ever aftcrv/ards allowed free access, at least, to 
one of her apartments ; and leave it; perform that in pri- 
Tate, which few individuals, except princesses, do with 
parade and publicity. 

< These things, however, planted the seeds of rancour 
against Maria Antoinette, which Madame de Noailles 
carried with her to the grave. It will be seen, that she 
declared against her at a crisis of great importance. The 
laughable title of Madame Etiquette, which the dauphi- 
ness gave her, clung to her through life; and, though 
conferred only in merriment, it never was forgiven. 

' The dauphiness seemed to be under a sort of fatality, 
with regard to all those, who had any power of doing 
her mischief, either with her husband, or the court. 
The Duke de Vauguyon, the dauphin's tutor, — who, both 
from principle and interest hated every thing Austrian, 
and any thing whatever, which threatened to lessen his 
despotic influence, so long exercised over the mind of his 
pupil, which he foresaw would be endangered were the 
prince once aut of his leading strings, and swayed by a 
young wife — made use of all the influence which old 
courtiers can command over the minds they have formed 



CHAPTER II. 45 

(more generally for their own ends than those of upright- 
ness,) to poison that of the young prince against his 
bride. 

< Never were there more intrigues among the female 
slaves in the Seraglio of Constantinople, for the Grand 
Sigmoids handkerchief, than were continually harassing 
one party against the other, at the court of Versailles. — 
The dauphiness was even attacked through her own 
tutor, the Abbe Vermond. A cabal was got up between 
the Abbe and Madame Marsan, instructress of the sisters 
of Louis XYI. (the princesses Clotilda and Elizabeth) 
upon the subject of education. Nothing grew out of this 
aifair excepting a new stimulus to the party spirit against 
the Austrian influence, or, in other words, the Austrian 
princess ; and such was probably its purpose. Of course^ 
every trifle becomes court tattle. This was made a 
mighty business of, for want of a worse. The royal 
aunts naturally took the part of Madame Marsan. They 
maintained, that their royal nieces, the French prin- 
cesses, were much better educated than the German 
archdutchesses had been by the Austrian empress. They 
attempted to found their assertion upon the embonpoint 
of the French princesses. They said, that their nieces, 
by the exercise of religious principles, obtained the ad- 
vantage of solid flesh, while the Austrian archdutchesses, 
by wasting themselves in idleness and profane pursuits, 
grew thin and meagre, and were equally exhausted in 
their minds and bodies! — At this, the Abbe Vermond, 
as the tutor of Maria Antoinette, felt himself highly of- 
fended, and called on Count de Mercy, then the imperial 
ambassador, to apprize him of the insult the Empire had 
received over the shoulders of the dauphiness's tutor. 
The ambassador gravely replied, that he should certainly 
send off a courier immediately to Vienna, to inform the 
empress, that the only fault the French court could find 



46 CHAPTER II. 

with Maria Antoinette was her being not so unwieldy as 
their own princesses, and bringing charms with her to a 
bridegroom, on whom even charms so transcendent could 
make no impression ! — Thus the matter was laughed off, 
but it left, ridiculous as it was, new bitter enemies to the 
cause of the illustrious stranger. 

^The new favoiirite, Madame Du Barry, whose sway 
was now supreme, was of course joined by the whole vi- 
tiated intriguing court of Versailles. — ^The king'*s favour- 
ite is always that of his parasites, however degraded. 
The politics of the Pompadour party were still feared, 
though Pompadour herself was no more ; for Choiseul 
had friends who were still active in his behalf. The 
power, which had been raised to crush the power that 
was still struggling, formed a rallying point for those who 
hated Austria, which the deposed ministry had support- 
ed ; and even the king's daughters, much as they abhor- 
red the vulgarity of Du Barry, were led, by dislike for 
the dauphiness, to pay their devotions to their father's 
mistress. The influence of the rising sun, Maria An- 
toinette, whose beauteous rays of blooming youth warm- 
ed every heart in her favour, was feared by the new fa- 
vourite, as well as by the old maidens. Louis XV. 
had already expressed a sufficient interest for the 
friendless royal stranger to awaken the jealousy of Du 
Barry; and she was as little disposed to share the king's 
affections with another, as his daughters were to wel- 
come a future queen from Austria in their palace. 
Mortified at the attachment the king daily evinced, she 
strained every nerve, to raise a party to destroy his 
predilections. She called to her aid the strength 
of ridicule, than which no weapon is more false or 
deadly. She laughed at qualities she could not com- 
prehend, and underrated what she could not imitate. 
The Duke de Richelieu, who had been instrumental to 



CHAPTER ir. 47 

(her good fortune, and for whom (remembering the old 
adage, when one hand washes the other ^ both are made 
clean) she procured the command of the array; — this 
duke, the triumphant general of Mahon, and one of the 
most distinguished noblemen of France, did not blush to 
become the secret agent of a depraved meretrix, in the 
conspiracy to blacken the character of her victim ! The 
princesses, of course, joined the jealous Phryne against 
their niece, the daughter of the Ctcsars, whose only 
faults were those of nature : for at that time, she could 
have no other, excepting those personal perfections, — 
which were the main source of all their malice. By one 
considered as a usurper, by the others as an intruder, 
both were, in consequence, industrious in the quiet work 
of ruin by whispers and detraction. 

^ To an impolitic act of the dauphiness herself may be 
in part ascribed the unwonted virulence of the jealousy 
and resentment of Du Barry. The old dotard, Louis 
XV. was so indelicate, as to have her present at the first 
supper of the dauphiness at Versailles. Madame la 
Mareschale de Beaumond, the Dutchess de Choiseul, and 
the Dutchess de Grammont, w^ere there also ; but, upon 
the favourite taking her seat at table, they expressed 
themselves very freely to Louis XV. respecting the insult 
they conceived offered to the young dauphiness, left the 
royal party, and never appeared again at court, till after 
the king's death. In consequence of this scene, Maria 
Antoinette, at the instigation of the Abbe Vermond, 
wrote to her mother the empress, complaining of the 
slight put upon her rank, birth, and dignity, and re- 
questing the empress would signify her displeasure to the 
court of France, as she had done to that of Spain, on a 
similar occasion, in favour of her sister, the queen of 
Naples. 

' This letter, which was intercepted, got to the know- 



4& CHAPTER II. 

ledge of the court, and excited some claraour. To say 
the worst, it could only be loolced upon as an ebullition 
of the foll)^ of youth. But, insignificant as such matters 
were in fact, malignity converted them into the locust, 
which destroyed the fruit she was sent to cultivate. 

^ Maria Theresa, like the old fox, too true to her sys- 
tem, to retract the policy, which formerly laid her open 
to the criticism of all the civilised courts of Europe, for 
opening the correspondence with Pompadour, to whose 
influence she owed her daughter's footing in France,— -a 
correspondence whereby she degraded the dignity of her 
sex and the honour of her crown,— and at the same time 
suspecting that it was not her daughter, but V^ermond, 
from private motives, who complained, — wrote the fol- 
lowing laconic reply to the remonstrance : 

i a Where the sovereign himself presides, no guest can 
be exceptionable." 

^ Such sentiments are very much in contradiction with 
the character of Maria Theresa. She was always soli- 
citous to impress the world with her high notion of moral 
rectitude. Certainly, such advice, however politic, 
ought not to have proceeded from a mother, so religious 
as Maria Theresa wished herself to be thought; es- 
pecially to a young princess, who, though enthusi- 
astically fond of admiration, at least had discretion to see 
and feel the impropriety of her being degraded to the 
level of a female like Du Barry, and, withal, courage to 
avow it. This, of itself, was quite enough to shake the 
virtue of Maria Antoinette ; or at least, Maria Theresa's 
letter was of a cast, to make her callous to the observance 
of all its scruples. And in that vitiated, depraved court, 
she too soon, unfortunately, took the hint of her maternal 
counsellor, in not only tolerating, but imitating, the ob- 
ject she despised. Being one day told, that Du Barry 
was the person, who most contributed to amuse Louis 



CHAPTER II. 49 

XV. — ^^ Then," said she, innocently, ^^ I declare myself 
her rival ; for I will try who can best amuse my grand- 
papa for the future. I will exert all my powers to please 
and divert him, and then we shall see who can best suc- 
ceed." 

^ Du Barry was by, when this was said ; and she never 
forgave it. To this, and to the letter, her rancour may 
principally be ascribed. To all those of the court party, 
who owed their places and preferments to her exclusive 
influence, and who held them subject to her caprice, she, 
of course, communicated the venom. 

' Meanwhile, the daupliin saw Maria Antoinette 
mimicking the monkey tricks with^which this low Sultana 
amused her dotard, without being aware of the cause. 
He was not pleased ; and this circumstance, coupled with 
his natural coolness and indifference for a union he had 
been taught to deem impolitic, and dangerous to the in- 
terests of France, created in his virtuous mind that sort 
of disgust, which remained so long an enigma to the 
court, and all the kingdom, excepting his royal aunts^ 
who did the best they could to confirm it into so decided 
an aversion, as might induce him to impel his grandfa- 
ther to annul the marriage, and send the dauphiness back 
to Vienna.' 

The execution of this diabolical scheme, with many 
others of a similar nature, was only prevented by the 
death of Louis XV. They are not treated by the prin- 
cess here ; but will be found explained by her in their 
proper place. She seems to feel, as if she had already 
outrun her story, and therefore, returns a little upon her 
steps. The manuscript continues thus : 

' After the dauphin's marriage, the Count d'Artois 
and his brother. Monsieur,* returned from their travels 

■ Afterwards Louis XVIII. and the former the present 
Charles X. 

G 



50 CHAPTER II. 

to Versailles. The former was delighted with the young 
dauphiness, and, seeing her so decidedly neglected by her 
husband, endeavoured to console her by a marked at- 
tention, but for which she would have been totally isola- 
ted ; for, excepting the old king, who became more and 
more enraptured with the grace, beauty, and vivacity, of 
his young grand-daugliter, not another individual in the 
royal family was really interested in her favour. The 
kindness of a personage so important was of too much 
weight not to awaken calumny. It w^as, of course, en- 
deavoured to be turned against her. Possibilities, and 
even probabilities, conspired to give a pretext for the 
scandal, which already began to be whispered about the 
dauphiness and d'Artois. It would have been no wonder 
had a reciprocal attachment arisen between a virgin wifcj, 
yo long neglected by her husband, and one whose conge- 
niality of character pointed him out as a more desirable 
partner than the dauphin. But there is abundant evi- 
dence of the perfect innocence of their intercourse. Du 
Barry was most earnest in endeavouring, from first to 
last, to establish its impurity, because the dauphiness in- 
duced the gay young prince to join in all her girlish 
schemes, to tease and circumvent the favourite. But 
when this young prince and his brother were married to 
the two princesses of Piedmont, the intimacy between 
their brides and the dauphiness proved, there could have 
been no doubt that Du Barry had invented a calumny, 
and that no feeling existed but one altogether sisterly. 
The three stranger princesses were indeed inseparable ; 
and these marriages, with that of the French princess, 
Clotilda, to the prince of Piedmont, created considerable 
changes in the coteries of court. 

^ The machinations against Maria Antoinette could not 
be concealed from the empress mother. An extraordina- 
ry ambassador was consequently sent from Vienna, to 



CHAPTER II. 51 

complain of them to the court of Versailles, with direc- 
tions, that the remonstrance should be supported and 
backed by the Count de Mercy, then Austrian ambassa- 
dor at the court of France. Louis XV. was the only 
person to whom the communication was news. This old 
dilettanti of the sex was so much engaged between his 
seraglio of the Pare aiix cerfs and Du Barry, that he 
knew less of what was passing in his palace, than those 
at Constantinople. On being informed by the Austrian 
ambassador, he sent an ambassador of his own to Vienna, 
to assure the empress, that he was perfectly satisfied of 
the innocent conduct of his newly acquired grand-daugh- 
ter. 

' Among the intrigues within intrigues of the time I 
mention, there was one, which shows, that perhaps Du 
Barry's distrust of the constancy of her paramour, and 
apprehension from the effect on him of the charms of the 
dauphiness, in whom he became daily more interested, 
were not utterly without foundation. In this instance, 
evf^n her friend the Duke de Richelieu, that notorious 
seducer, by lending himself to the secret purposes of the 
kihg, became a traitor to the cause of the king's favour- 
ite, to which he had sworn allegiance, and which he had 
supported by defaming her whom he now became anxious 
to make his queen. 

* It has already been said, that the famous Dutchess de 
[ (jrAmmont was one of the confidential friends of Louis 
J XV. before he took Du Barry under his especial protec- 
tion. Of course, there can be no difficulty in conceiv- 
ing, how likely a person she would be, to aid any pur- 
pose of the king, which should displace the favourite, by 
whom she herself had been obliged to retire, by ties of 
a higher order, to which she might prove instrumental. 

^ Louis XV. actually flattered himself with the hope 
of obtaining advantages from the dauphin's coolness to- 



52 CHAPTEB ir. 

wards the dauphiness. He encouraged it, and even 
threw many obstacles in the way of the consummation of 
the marriage. The apartments of the young couple 
were placed at opposite ends of the palace, so that the 
dauphin could not approach that of his dauphiness with- 
out a publicity, which his bashfulness could not brook. 

^ Louis XV. now began to act upon his secret passion 
to supplant his grandson, and make the dauphiness his 
own queen, by endeavouring to secure her affections to 
himself. His attentions were backed by gifts of dia- 
monds, pearls, and other valuables, and it was at this pe- 
riod, that Boehmer, the jeweller, first received the 
order for that famous necklace, which subsequently pro- 
duced such dreadful consequences, asid which whs ori- 
ginally meant as a kingly present to the intended 
queen; though afterwards destined for Du Barry) had 
not the king died before the completion of the bargain 
for it. 

^ The queen herself one day told me, " Heathen 
knows if ever I should have had the blessing of beinj^ a 
mother, had I not one evening surprised the dauphin, 
when the subject was adverted to, in tlie expression of*' a 
sort of regret at our being placed so far asunder frohi 
each other. Indeed he never honoured me with any 
proof of his affection so explicit as that you have just 
witnessed,'' — for the king had that moment kissed her, 
as he left the apartment — *^ from the time of our mar- 
riage till the consummation. The most I ever received 
from him was a squeeze of the hand in secret. His ex- 
treme modesty, and perhaps his utter ignorance of the 
intercourse with woman, dreaded the exposure of cross- 
ing the palace to my bed-chamber ; and no doubt the ac- 
complishment would have occurred sooner, could it have 
been effectuated in privacy. The hint lie gave embold- 
ened me with courage, when he next left me, as usoal^ 



CHAPTER If. 33 

aC the door of my apartment, to mention it to the Dutch- 
ess of Grammont, then the confidential friend of Louis 
XV. who laughed me almost out of countenance ; saying, 
in her gay manner of expressing herself, '^ If 1 were as 
young and as beautiful a wife as you are, I should cer- 
tainly not trouble myself to remove the obstacle by going 
to him, while there were others of superior rank ready 
to supply his place." Before she quitted me, however, 
she said: ^^ Well, child, make yourself easy; you shall 
no longer be separated from the object of your wishes : 
I will mention it to the king, your grand-papa, and he 
will soon order your husband's apartment to be chang- 
ed for one nearer your own." And the change shortly 
afterwards took place.* 

^ ^^ Here," continued the queen, " I accuse myself of 
a want of that courage, which every virtuous wife ought 
to exercise, in not having complained of the visible ne- 
glect shown me, long, long before I did ; for this, per- 
haps, would have spared both of us the many bitter 
pangs originating in the seeming coldness, whence have 
arisen all the scandalous stories against my character, — 
which have often interrupted the full enjoyment I should 
have felt, had they not made me tremble for the security 
of that attachment, of which I had so many proofs, and 
and which formed my only consolation amid all the 
malice, that, for years, has been endeavouring to deprive 



* The dauphiness could not understand the first allusion of the 
dutchess ; but it is evident, that the vile intriguer took this opportu- 
nity of sounding her upon what she was commissioned to carry on 
in favour of Louis XV. and it is equally apparent, that when she 
heard Maria Antoinette express herself decidedly in favour of her 
young husband, and distinctly saw how utterly groundless were 
the hopes of his secret rival, she was led thereby to abandon her 
wicked project -, and perhaps the change of apartments was the 
best mask that could have been devised to hide the villainy. 



54 CHAPTER II. 

me of it ! So far as regards my husband^s estimatioiiji 
thank fate, I have defied their wickedness! Would to 
Heaven I could have been equally secure in the estima- 
tion of my people, — -the object nearest to my heart, after 
the king and my dear children !" 

^ The present period appears to have been one of the 
happiest of the life of Maria Antoinette. Her intimate 
society consisted of the king's brothers, and their prin- 
cesses, with the king's saint-like sister Elizabeth ; and 
they lived entirely together, excepting when the dau- 
phiness dined in public. These ties seemed to be drawn 
daily closer for some time, till the subsequent intimacy 
with the Polignacs. Even when the Countess d'Artois 
lay in, the dauphiness, then become queen, transferred 
her parties to the apartments of that princess, rather 
than lose the gratification of her society. 

^ During all this time, however, Du Barry, the Duke 
d'Aiguillon, and the aunts- princesses, took special care to 
keep themselves between her and any tenderness on the 
part of the husband dauphin, and, from different motives 
uniting in one end, tried every means to get the object 
of their hatred sent back to Vienna*' 



( 55 ) 



CHAPTER III 

Journal continued. — Maria Theresa. — Cardinal de Rohan. — Em- 
press induced by him to send spies to France. — Maria Antoi- 
nette dislikes meddling with politics. — Deep game of de Rohan. 
— Spies sent to France, unknown to the cardinal, to discover 
how far his representations are to be trusted. — She finds he has 
deceived her, and resents it. — He falls in love with Maria An- 
toinette. — Betrays her to her mother. — Indignation of Maria 
Antoinette on the occasion. — He suggests the marriage of Maria 
Antoinette's sister with Louis XV. — His double intrigues with 
the t^vo courts of France and Austria. — Louis XV. dies.— Rohan 
disgraced. 

^ The empress mother was thoroughly aware of all that 
was going on. Her anxiety, not only about her daugh- 
ter, but her state policy, which, it may be apprehended^ 
was, in her mind, the stronger motive of the two, en- 
couraged the machinations of an individual, who must 
now appear upon the stage of action, and to whose arts 
may be ascribed the worst of the sufferings of Maria 
Antoinette. 

' I allude to the Cardinal Prince de Rohan. 

< At this time he was ambassador at the court of Vien- 
na. The reliance the empress placed on him* favoured 
his criminal machinations against her daughter's reputa- 
tion. He was the cause of her sending spies to watch 
the conduct of the dauphiness; besides a list of persons 

* Madame Campan, Vol. 1. page 42, is very mucK in the dark 
on this subject, and totally misinformed. The Cardinal de Rohan 
did not become obnoxious to Maria Theresa till it was discovered, 
that he had abused her confidence, and betrayed that of her minis- 
ters.— ^rf. 



56 CHAPTER III. 

proper for her to cultivate, as well as of those it wa& 
deemed desirable for her to exclude from her confidence. 
^ As the empress knew all those who, though high in 
office at Versailles, secretly received pensions from Vien- 
na, she could, of course, tell without much expense of 
sagacity, who were in the Austrian interest. The dau- 
phiness was warned, that she was surrounded by persons, 
who were not her friends. 

* The conduct of Maria Theresa towards her daugh- 
ter, the queen of Naples,* will sufficiently explain how 
much the empress must have been chagrined at the ab- 
solute indifference of Maria Antoinette to the state po- 
licy, which was intended to have been served, in send- 
ing her to France. A less fitting instrument for the 
purpose could not have been selected by the motherc 
Maria Antoinette had much less of the politician about 
her than either of her surviving sisters ; and so much 
was she addicted to amusement, that she never even 
thought of entering into state affairs till forced by the 
king's neglect of his most essential prerogatives, and 
called upon by the ministers themselves to screen them 
from responsibility. Indeed the latter cause prevailed 
upon her to take her seat in the cabinet council (though 
she took it with great reluctance) long before she was 
impelled thither by events and her consciousness of its 
necessity. She would often exclaim to me : '^ How hap- 
py I was during the life-time of Louis XV. ! No cares 
to disturb my peaceful slumbers ! No responsibility to 
agitate my mind! No fears of erring, of partiality, of 
injustice, to break in upon my enjoyments! All, all 
happiness, my dear princess, vanishes from the bosom of 
a female, if she once deviate from the prescribed do- 
mestic character of her sex ! Nothing was €ver framed 

* See page 26. 



CHAPTER III. 57 

more wise than the Salique Laws, which in France, and 
many parts of Germany, exclude females from reign- 
ing; for few of us have that masculine capacity so ne- 
cessary to conduct with impartiality and justice the af- 
fairs of state!" 

^To this feeling of the impropriety of feminine inter- 
ference in masculine duties, coupled with her attachment 
to France, both from principle and feeling, may be as- 
cribed the neglect of her German connexions, which led 
to the many mortifying reproaches, and the still more 
galling espionage to which she was subjected in her own 
palace by her mother. These are, however, so many 
proofs of the falsehood of the allegations by which she 
suffered so deeply afterwards, of having sacrificed the 
interests of her husband's kingdom to her predilection 
for her mother's egipire. 

' The subtile Rohan designed to turn the anxiety of 
Maria Theresa about *the dauphiness to account, and he 
was also aware that the ambition of the empress was pa- 
ramount in Maria Theresa's bosom to the love for her 
child. He was about to play a deep and more than dou- 
ble game. By increasing the mother's jealousy of the 
daughter, and at the same time enhancing the importance 
of the advantages afforded by her situation, to forward 
the interests of the mother, he, no doubt, hoped to get 
both within his power : for who can tell what wild ex- 
pectation might not have animated such a mind as Ro- 
han's, at the prospect of governing, not only the court of 
France, but that of Austria? the court of France, through 
a secret influence of his own dictation thrown around the 
dauphiness by the mother's alarm ; — and that of Austria, 
through a way he pointed out, in which the object, that 
was most longed for by the mother's ambition, seemed 
most likely to be achieved! While he endeavoured to 
make Maria Theresa beset her daughter with the spies 

H 



58 CHAPTER 111. 

I have mentioned, and which were generally of his own 
selection;, he at the same time endeavoured to strengthen 
her impression of how important it was to her schemes 
to ensure the daughter's co-operation. Conscious of the 
eagerness of Maria Theresa for the recovery of the rich 
province, which Frederick the Great of Prussia had 
wrested from her ancient dominions, he pressed upon 
her credulity the assurance, that the influence of which 
the dauphiness was capable over Louis XV. by the youth- 
ful beauty's charms acting upon the dotard's admiration, 
would readily induce that monarch to give such aid to 
Austria as must ensure the restoration of what it lost. 
Silesia, it has been before observed, was always a topic 
by means of which the weak side of Maria Theresa could 
be attacked with success. There is generally some pe- 
culiar frailty in the ambitious, through which the artful 
can throw them off their guard. The weak and tyran- 
nical Philip II. whenever the recovery of Holland and 
tlie Low Countries was proposed to him, was always 
ready to rush headlong into any scheme for its accom- 
plishment; the bloody queen Mary, his wife, declared,, 
that at her death the loss of Calais would be found en- 
graven on her heart : and to Maria Theresa, Silesia was 
the Holland and the Calais for which her wounded pride 
was thirsting.* 

* No doubt, if ever Ferdinand of Spain can be made to believe 
he has lost Spanish America, he may exclaim with equal truth, 
" I feel it in iny head, in every fibre of mj racked frame, — ^it 
gnaws my unrelenting heart !" However ridculous, it is certain- 
ly true, that whenever sovereigns, from their folly, ignorance, op- 
pression, or misrule, lose a part of their states, their reason gene- 
rally follows, at least, upon that one theme. Such is the principle 
which at this moment actuates the Turks for the recovery of 
Greece ! If the Greeks are not Spaniards, and English valour do 
not degenerate to French poltroonry, the fatalism bv which thej 



CHAPTEU III. 59 

^But Maria Theresa was wary, even in the midst of 
the credulity of her ambition. The Baron de Neni was 
sent by her privately to Versailles to examine, personal- 
ly, whether there was any thing in Maria Antionette's 
conduct requiring the extreme vigilance, which had been 
represented as indispensable. The report of the Baron 
de Neni to his royal mistress was such as to convince her 
she had been misled and her daughter misrepresented 
by Rohan. The empress instantly forbade him her 
presence. 

' The cardinal upon this, unknown to the court of Vi- 
enna, and indeed, to every one, except his factotum, 
principal agent, and secretary, the Abbe Georgel, left 
the Austrian capital, and came to Versailles, covering his 
disgrace by pretended leave of absence. On seeing 
Maria Antoinette he fell enthusiastically in love with 
her. To gain her confidence he disclosed the conduct 
which had been observed towards her by the empress, 
and in confirmation of the correctness of his disclosure, 



are guided will soon convince the Turks that they are playing a 
losing game. The woful experience of some of the greatest of 
the European politicians might afford them a useful lesson. How 
impolitic is the neutrality of my own country upon this interest- 
ing subject ! Why is it thus reluctant to assist in tearing off the 
yoke of an intelligent people's barbarous oppressors, who are as 
uncivilized at this moment as they were centuries ago, when they 
first took possession of Byzantium ? Ought we not to rejoice in 
the triumph of those wliom God himself commands to propagate 
human emancipation ? For liberty, like religion, must have its 
martyrs. Its blood is the stamina of its existence. Its oppo- 
sers may exile, imprison, burn in effigy, and, in fact, hang and 
shoot ; but all these violences only sft-engthen the creed of the 
survivors, and must end in the ruin of the unholy cause they 
would fain strengthen. Nations must be free, to be prosperous, 
and princes liberal, to be happy. Liberty is the phoenix that re- 
vives from its ashes I- — E(L 



(JO CHAPTER III. 

admitted that he had himself chosen the spies, which 
had been set on her. Indignant at such meanness in her 
mother, and despising the prelate, who could be base 
enough to commit a deed equally corrupt and uncalled 
for, and even thus wantonly betrayed when committed^ 
the dauphiness suddenly withdrew from his presence^ 
and gave orders that he should never be admitted to any 
of her parties. 

' But his imagination was too much heated by a guilty 
passion of the blackest hue to recede ; and his nature too 
presumptuous and fertile in expedients to be disconcerted. 
He soon found means to conciliate both mother and 
daughter ; and both by pretending to manage with the 
one the self-same plot, which, with the other, he was re- 
commending himself by pretending to overthrow. T& 
elude detection he interrupted the regular correspond- 
ence between the empress and the dauphiness, and 
created a coolness by preventing the communications 
which would have unmasked him, that gave additional 
security to the success of his deception. 

' By the most diabolical arts he obtained an interview 
with the dauphiness, in which he regained her confidence. 
He made her believe, that he had been commissioned by 
her mother, as she had shown so little interest for the 
house of Austria, to settle a mari'iage for her sister, the 
Arch-dutchess Elizabeth, v/ith Louis XV. The dauphi- 
ness was deeply affected at the statement. She could 
not conceal her agitation. She involuntarily confessed, 
how much she should deplore such an alliance. The car- 
dinal instantly perceived his advantage, and was too 
subtle to let it pass. He declared, that as it was to him 
the negotiation had been confided, if the dauphiness 
would keep her own counsel, never communicate their 
conversation to the empress, but leave the whole matter 
to his management, and only assure him, that he was 



CHAPTER III. 61 

forgiven, he would pledge himself to arrange things to 
her satisfaction. The danphiness, not wishing to see 
another raised to the throne over her head and to her 
scorn;, under the assurance, that no one knew of the in- 
tention, or could prevent it, but the cardinal, promised 
him her faith and ftivour : and thus rashly fell into the 
springs of this wily intriguer. 

/ Exulting to find Maria Antoinette in his power, the 
cardinal left Versailles, as privately as he arrived there, 
for Vienna. His next object was to ensnare the empress, 
as he had done her daughter ; and, by a singular caprice, 
fortune, during his absence, had been preparing for him 
the means. 

^ The Abbe Georgel, his secretary, by underhand ma- 
ncEuvres to which he was accustomed, had obtained ac- 
cess to all the secret state correspondence, in which the 
empress had expressed herself fully to the Count de 
Mercy, relative to the views of Russia and Prussia upon 
Poland, whereby her own plans were much thwarted. 
The acquirement of copies of these documents naturally 
gave the cardinal free access to the court, and a ready 
introduction once more to the empress. She was too 
much committed by his possession of such weapons, not to 
be most happy to make her peace with him; and he was 
too sagacious not to make the best use of his opportunity. 
To regain her confidence, he betrayed some of the sub- 
altern agents, through whose treachery he had procured 
his evidences, and, in farther confirmation of his re- 
sources, showed the empress several despatches from her 
own ministers to the courts of Russia and Prussia. He 
had long, he said, been in possession of similar views of 
aggrandisement, upon which these courts were about to 
act; and had, for a while, even incurred her imperial 
majesty's displeasure, merely because he was not in a si- 
tuation fully fo explain ; hut that he had now thought of 



63 CHAPTER III. 

the means to crush their schemes before they could be 
put in practice. He apprized her of his being aware^ 
that her imperial majesty's ministers were actively car- 
rying on a correspondence with Russia, with a view of 
joining her in cheeking the French co-operation with the 
Grand Signior ; and warned her, that if this design were 
secretly pursued, it would defeat the very views she had 
in sharing in the spoliation of Poland ; and if openly , it 
would be deemed an avowal of hostilities against the 
court of France, whose political system would certainly 
impel it to resist any attack upon the divan of Constanti- 
nople, that the balance of power in Europe might be 
maintained against the formidable ambition of Catherine, 
whose gigantic hopes had been already too much realised. 

* Maria Theresa was no less astonished at these dis- 
closures of the cardinal, than the dauphiness had been at 
his communication concerning her. She plainly saw, 
that all her plans were known, and might be defeated 
from their detection. 

' The cardinal, having succeeded in alarming the em- 
press, took from his pocket a fabulous correspondence, 
hatched by his secretary, the Abbe Georgel. " There^ 
madam," said he, ^* this will convince your majesty that 
the warm interest I have taken in your imperial house, 
has carried me farther than I was justified in having 
gone ; but seeing the sterility of the dauphiness, or, as 
it is reported by some of the court, the total disgust the 
dauphin has to consummate the marriage, the coldness of 
your daughter towards the interest of your court, and 
the prospect of a race from the Countess D'Artois, for 
the consequences of which there is no answering, I have, 
unknown to your imperial majesty, taken upon myself to 
propose to Louis XV. a marriage with the Arch-dutch ess 
Elizabeth, who, on becoming queen of France, will im- 
mediately have it in her power to forward the Austrian 



CHAPTER III. 63 

interest ; for Louis XV. as the first proof of his affection 
to his young bride, will at once secure to your empire 
the aid you stand so much in need of against the ambi- 
tion of these two rising states. The recovery of your 
imperial majesty's ancient dominions may then be looked 
upon as accomplished, from the influence of the French 
cabinet." 

i The bait was swallowed. Maria Theresa was so 
overjoyed at this scheme, that she totally forgot all for- 
mer all former animosity against the cardinal. She was 
encouraged to ascribe the silence of Maria Antoinette 
(whose letters had been intercepted by the cardinal him- 
self) to her resentment of this project concerning her 
sister ; and the deluded empress, availing herself of the 
pretended zeal of the cardinal for the interest of her 
family, gave him full powers to return to France and se- 
cretly negotiate the alliance for her daughter Elizabeth^ 
which was by no means to be disclosed to the dauphiness 
till the king's proxy should be appointed to perform the 
ceremony at Vienna. This was all the cardinal wished 
for. 

^ Meanwhile, in order to obtain a still greater ascen- 
dency over the court of France, he had expended im- 
mense sums to bribe secretaries and ministers ; and cour- 
iers were even stopped, to have copies taken of all the 
correspondence to and from Austria. At the same crisis 
the empress was informed by Prince Kaunitz, that the 
cardinal and his suite, at the palace of the French am- 
bassador, carried on such an immense and barefaced 
traffick of French manufactures of every description, 
that Maria Theresa thought proper, in order to prevent 
future abuse, to abolish the privilege, which gave to 
ministers and ambassadors so tempting an opportunity of 
defrauding the revenue. Though this law was levelled 
exclusively at the cardinal, it was thought convenient, 



64 CHAPTER III. 

under the circumstances, to avoid irritating him, and it 
was consequently made general. But the Count de 
Mercy now obtaining some clue to his duplicity, an inti- 
mation was given to the court at Versailles, to which the 
king replied, ^^ If the empress be dissatisfied with the 
French ambassador, he shall he recalled^" But though 
completely unmasked, none dared publicly to accuse hinij 
each party fearing a discovery of its own intrigue. His 
official recal, did not, in consequence, take place for 
some time ; and the cardinal, not thinking it prudent to 
go back till Louis XV. should be no more, lest some un- 
foreseen discovery of his project, for supplying her royal 
paramour with a queen, should rouse Du Barry to get 
his cardinalship sent to the Bastille for life, remained 
fixed in his post, waiting for events. 

< At length, Louis XV. expired, and the cardinal re- 
turned to Versailles. He contrived to obtain a private 
audience of the young queen. He presumed upon her 
former facility in listening to him, and was about to be- 
tray the last confidence of Maria Theresa ; but the 
queen, shocked at the knowledge, which she had obtain- 
ed, of his having been equally treacherous to her with 
her mother, in disgust and alarm left the room, without 
receiving a letter he had brought her from Maria The- 
resa, and without deigning to address a single word to 
him. In the heat of her passion and resentment, she 
was nearly exposing all she knew of his infamies to the 
king, when the cool-headed Princess Elizabeth opposed 
her, from the seeming imprudence of such an abrupt 
discovery ; alleging, that it might cause an open rupture 
between the two courts, as it had already been the source 
of a reserve and coolness, which had not yet been ex= 
plained. The queen was determined never more to 
commit herself by seeing the cardinal. She accordingly 
sent for her mothers letter, which he himself delivered 



CHAPTER III. 65 

Into the hands of her confidential messenger, who advi- 
sed the queen not to betray the cardinal to the king, 
lest, in so doing, she should never be able to guard her- 
self against the domestic spies, by whom, perhaps, she 
was even yet surrounded ! The cardinal, conceiving from 
the impunity of his conduct, that he still held the queen 
in check, through the influence of her fears of his dis- 
closing her weakness upon the subject of the obstruction 
she threw in the way of her sister's marriage, did not 
resign the hope of converting that ascendency to his fu- 
ture profit. 

' The fatal silence to which her majesty was thus un- 
fortunately advised, I regret from the bottom of my 
soul ! All the successive vile plots of the cardinal against 
the peace and reputation of the queen may be attributed 
to this ill-judged prudence ! Though it resulted from an 
honest desire of screening her majesty from the resent- 
ment or revenge to which she might have subjected her- 
self from this villain, who had already injured her in her 
own estimation for having been credulous enough to have 
listened to him; yet from this circumstance it is, that the. 
Prince de Rohan built the foundation of all the after 
frauds and machinations, with which he blackened the 
character, and destroyed the comfort of his illustrious 
victim. It is obvious that a mere exclusion from court 
was too mild a punishment for such offences ; and it was 
but too natural that such a mind as his, driven from the 
royal presence, and, of course, from all the noble socie- 
ties to which it led (the anti-court party excepted,) 
should brood over the means of inveigling the queen into 
a consent for his re-appearance before her and the gay 
world, which was his only element, and if her favour 
should prove unattainable, to revenge himself by her 
ruin! 

1 



55 CHAPTER 111. 

' On the cardinal's return to France,* all his nuraeroug 
and powerful friends beset the king and queen, to allow 
of his restoration to his embassy ; but though on his ar- 
rival at Versailles, finding the court had removed to 
Compeigne, he had a short audience there of the king, 
all efforts in his favour were thrown away. Equally un- 
successful was every intercession with the empress mo- 
ther. She had become thoroughly awakened to his 
worthlessness, and she declared she vi^ould never more 
even receive him in her dominions as a visiter. The 
cardinal, being apprized of this by some of his intimates, 
was at last persuaded to give up the idea of further im- 
portunity j and, pocketing his disgrace, retired with his 
hey dukes and his secretary, the Abbe Georgel, to whom 
may be attributed all the artful intrigues of his disgrace- 
ful diplomacy.! 

* It is evident, that Rohan had no idea, during all his 
schemes to supplant the dauphiness by marrying her sis- 
ter to the king, that the secret hope of Louis XV. had 
been to divorce the dauphin and marry the slighted bride 
himself. Perhaps, it is fortunate that Rohan did not 
know this. A brain, so fertile in mischief as his, might 
have converted such a circumstance to baneful uses. But 
the death of Louis XV. put an end to all the then exist- 
ing schemes for a change in her position. It was to her 
a real, though but a momentary trijimph. From the 
hour of her arrival she had a powerful party to cope 
with 5 and the fact of her being an Austrian, indepen- 

* This circumstance is mentioned also by Madame Campan, 

t The Abbe Georgel, in his memoirs, justifies the conduct of his 
superior with great ability | and it was very politic in him to do 
sOj because, he thereby exonerates himself from the imputation he 
would naturally incur from having been a known party, if not a 
principal, in all which has dishonoured the cardinal. 



CHAPTER III. 



67 



dant of the jealousy created by her charms, was, in it- 
self, a spell to conjure up armies, against which she stood 
alone, isolated in the face of embattled myriads ! But she 
now reared her head, and her foes trembled in her pre- 
sence. Yet she could not guard against the moles busy 
in the earth secretly to undermine her. Nay, had not 
Louis XV. died at the moment he did, there is scarcely a 
doubt, from the number and the quality of the hostile 
influences working on the credulity of the young dau- 
phin, that Maria Antoinette would have been very 
harshly dealt with ; even the more so from the partiality 
of the dotard, who believed himself to be reigning. But 
she has been preserved from her enemies to become their 
sovereign ; and, if her crowned brow has crewhile been 
stung by thorns in its coronal, let me not despair of their 
being hereafter smothered in yet unblown roses.* 

* The vain wish of friendship, that has been cruelly disappoint- 
ed ! Fortunate would it have been for Maria Antoinette, had she 
been sent back to Vienna! What an ocean of blood, what writh- 
ings of human misery, it might have prevented ! Had she been 
sent back, spotless as the first fallen snow, her life might have 
passed in that domestic bliss, which was her sole ambition, and 
she would have gone down to the peaceful tombs of her august 
ancestors, leaving, perhaps, the page of history unstained by some 
©f the greatest of its crimes! 



( 6? 



CHAPTER IV. 

Journal confinwef?.—- Accession of Louis XVI. and Maria Antoi- 
nette. — Happy beginning.- — Public joy. — The new king more 
affectionate to his queen.— Du Barry and party no longer re- 
ceived at court. — Unsuccessful attempt of the queen to restore 
Choiseul to the ministry. — Insinuations against the queen.— 
Vermond and the king. — The queen's modesty respecting her 
toilette.—Madamoiselie Bertin, the milliner, introduced. — ^An- 
ecdote of the royal hair-dresser. — False charge of extravagance 
against the queen — Remarks of the editor. 

^The accession of Louis XVI. and Maria Antoinette 
to the crown of France, took place (May 10, 1774) under 
the most propitious auspices ! 

^ After the long, corrupt reign of an old debauched 
prince, whose vices were degrading to himself and to a 
nation groaning under the lash of prostitution and caprice, 
the most cheering changes were expected, from the 
known exemplariness of his successor., and the amiable- 
ness of his consort. Both were looked up to as models 
of goodness. The virtues of Louis XVI. were so gener- 
ally known, that all France hastened to acknowledge 
them ! while the queen's fascinations acted like a charm 
on all who had not been invincibly prejudiced against the 
many excellent qualities, which entitled her to love and 
admiration. Indeed, I never heard an insinuation against 
either the king or queen, but from those depraved minds, 
which never possessed virtue enough to imitate theirs ; 
or were jealous of the wonderful powers of pleasing, that 
so eminently distinguished Maria Antoinette from the 
rest of her sex. 



CHAPTER IV. 69 

^ On the death of Louis XV. the entire court removed 
from Versailles to the palace of La Muette, situate in the 
Bois de Boulogne, very near Paris. The confluence of 
Parisians, who came in crowds joyfully to hail the death 
of the old vitiated sovereign, and the accession of his 
adored successors, became quite annoying to the whole 
royal family. The enthusiasm with which the Parisians 
hailed their young king, and in particular his amiable 
young partner, lasted for many days. These spontane- 
ous evidences of attachment were regarded as prognostics 
of a long reign of happiness. If any inference can be 
drawn from public opinion, could there be a stronger as- 
surance than this one, of uninterrupted future tranquilli- 
ty to its objects? 

' To the queen herself it was a double triumph. The 
conspirators, whose depravity had been labouring to 
make her their victim, departed from the scene of pow- 
er. The husband, who for four years had been callous 
to her attractions, became awakened to them. A com- 
plete change in the domestic system of the palace was 
wrought suddenly. The young king, during the inter- 
val which elapsed between the death and the interment 
of his grandfather, from court etiquette was confined to 
his apartment. The youthful couple therefore saw each 
other with less restraint. The marriage was consumma- 
ted. Maria Antoinette from this moment may date that 
influence over the heart (would I might add over the 
head and policy!) of the king, which never slackened 
during the remainder of their lives. 

^ Madame Du Barry was mucli better dealt with by 
the young king, whom she had always treated with the 
greatest levity, than she, or her numerous courtiers, ex- 
pected. She was allowed her pension, and the entire 
enjoyment of all her ill-gotten and accumulated wealth ; 
but, of course, excluded from ever appearing at court, 



70 CHAPTER IV, 

and politically exiled from Paris to the Chateau aux 
JDames* 

•^This implacable foe and her infamous co-adjutors be- 
ing removed from farther interference in matters of state 
by the expulsion of all their own ministers, their rivals^ 
the Duke de Choiseul and his party, by whom Maria 
Antionette had been brought to France, were now in 
high expectation of finding the direction of the govern- 
ment, by the queen's influence, restored to that noble- 
man. But the king's choice was already made. H.e 
had been ruled by his aunts, and appointed the minis- 
ters suggested by them and his late grandfather's friends, 
who feared the preponderance of the Austrian influ- 
ence. The three ladies, Madame la Marechale de 
Beauveau, the Dutchess de Choiseul, and the Dutchess 
de Grammont, who were all well known to Louis XVI. 
and stood high in his opinion for many excellent quali- 
ties, and especially for their independent assertion of 
their own and the dauphiness's dignity by retiring from 
court in consequence of the supper at which Du Barry 
was introduced, these ladies, though received on their 
return thither with peculiar welcome, in vain united 
their efforts with those of the queen and the Abbe Ver- 
mond, to overcome the prejudice wbich opposed Choi- 
seul's re-instatement. It was all in vain. The royal 
aunts, Adelaide especially, hated Choiseul for the sake of 
Austria, and his agency in bringing Maria Antoinette to 
France ; and so did the king's tutor and governor, the 
Duke de Vauguyon, who had ever been hostile to any 
sort of friendship with Vienna ; and these formed a host 
impenetrable even to the influence of the queen, which 
was opposed by all the leaders of the prevailing party, 
who though they were beginning externally to court, 
admire, and idolize her, secretly surrounded her by 
their noxious and viperous intrigues, and, while they 



CHAPTER IV. 71 

lived in her bosom, fattened on the destruction of her 
fame ! 

' One of the earliest of the paltry insinuations against 
Maria Antoinette emanated from her not counterfeiting 
deep affliction at the decease of the old king. A few 
days after that event, the court received the regular vi- 
sits of condolence and congratulation of the nobility, 
whose duty prescribes their attendance upon such occa- 
sions; and some of them, among whom were the daugh- 
ters of Louis XV. not finding a young queen of nineteen 
hypocritically bathed in tears, on returning to their 
abodes declared her the most indecorous of princesses, 
and diffused a strong impression of her want of feeling. 
At the head of these detractors were Mesdames de Gue- 
minee and Marsan, rival pretenders to the favours of the 
Cardinal de Rohan, who, having by the death of Louis 
XV. lost their influence and their unlimited power to ap- 
point and dismiss ministers, themselves became ministers 
tp, their own evil geniuses, in calumniating her whose 
legitimate elevation annihilated their monstrous preten- 
sions ! 

* The Abbe Vermond, seeing the defeat of the party 
of the Duke de Choiseul, by whom he had been sent to 
the court of Vienna on the recommendation of Brienne, 
began to tremble for his own security. As soon as the 
court had arrived at Choisy, and he was assured of the 
jmarriage having been consummated, he obtained, with 
the queen's consent, an audience of the king, for the 
purpose of soliciting his sanction to his continuing in his 
situation. On submitting his suit to the king, his majes- 
ty merely gave a shrug of the shoulders, and turned to 
converse with the Duke D'Aiguillon, who at that mo- 
ment entered the room. The abbe stood stupified, and 
the queen, seeing the crest fallen humour of her tutor, 
laughed and cheered him by remarking, ^^ There is 



72 CHAPTER IV, 

more meaning in the shrug of a king, than in the em^ 
brace of a minister. The one always promises, but is 
seldom sincere; the other is generally sincere, but never 
promises." The abbe, not knowing how to interpret the 
dumb answer, finding the king's back turned, and his 
conversation with D'Aiguillon continuing, was retiring, 
with a shrug of his own shoulders, to the queen, when 
she exclaimed good-humouredly to Louis, laughing and 
pointing to the abbe, ^^ Look ! look ! see how readily, a 
church dignitary can imitate the good Christian king, 
who is at the head of the church." The king seeing 
the abbe still waiting, said drily, ^^ Sir, you are confirm- 
ed in your situation," and then resumed his conversation 
with the duke. 

* This anecdote is a sufficient proof that Louis XVI. 
had no prepossesion in favour of the Abbe Vermond, and 
that it was merely not to wound the feelings of the 
queen that he was tolerated. The queen herself was 
conscious of this, and used frequently to say to me how 
much she was indebted to the king, for such deference 
to her private choice, in allowing Vermond to be her se- 
cretary, as she did not remember the king's ever having 
held any communication with the abbe during the whole 
time he was attached to the service, though the abbe al- 
ways expressed himself with the greatest respect towards 
the king. 

* The decorum of Maria Antoinette would not allow 
her to endure those public exhibitions of the ceremony 
of dressing herself, which had been customary at court. 
This reserve was highly approved by his majesty; and 
one of the first reforms she introduced, after the acces- 
sion, was in the internal discipline of her own apart- 
ment. 

^ It was during one of the visits, apart from court eti- 
quette, to the toilette of the queen^ that the Dutchess de 



CHAPrKR I\ , 73 

Chartres, afterwards Dutchess of Orleans, introduced the 
famous Mademoiselle Bertin, who afterwards became so 
celebrated as the queen's milliner ; the first that was ever 
allowed to approach a royal palace ; and it was months 
before Maria Antoinette had courage to receive her mil- 
liner in any other than the private apartment, which, by 
the alteration her majesty had made in the arrangements 
of the household, she set apart for the purposes of dress- 
ing in comfort by herself and free from all intruders. 

•^ Till then the queen was not only very plain in her 
attire, but very economical ; a circumstance which, I 
have often heard her say, gave great umbrage to the 
other princesses of the court of Versailles, who never 
showed themselves, from the moment they rose till they 
returned to bed, except in full dress ; while she herself 
made all her morning visits in a simple white cambric 
gown and straw hat. This simplicity, unfortunately, like 
many other trifles, whose consequences no foresight would 
have predicted, tended much to injure Maria Antoinette, 
not only with the court dandies, but the nation ; by 
whom, though she was always censured, she was as sud- 
denly imitated in all she wore, or did. 

* From the private closet, which Maria Antoinette re- 
served to herself, and had now opened to her milliner, 
she would return, after the great points of habiliment 
were accomplished, to those who were waiting with me- 
morials at her public toilette, where the hair-dresser 
would finish putting the ornaments in her majesty's 
hair.* 

* The Count de Fersan relates a cui'ious anecdote of an occur- 
rence, which caused a great deal of mirth among the visiters of her 
majesty's toilette rendezvous. Mademoiselle Bertin had invented 
a new head ornament of gauze, ribbons, flowers, beads, and 
feathers, for the queen ; but the tire-woman, finding it deficient in 
the dimensions her majesty had ordered, by some folds, <lirected 

K 



74 CHAPTER IV. 

i The king made Maria Antoinette a present of Le 
Petit Trianon. Much has been said of the extravagant 
expense lavished by her upon this spot. I can only de- 
clare, that the greater part of the articles of furniture 
which had not been worn out by time, or were not worm 
or moth-eaten, and her own bed among them, were taken 
from the apartments of former queens, and some of them 
had actually belonged to Anne of Austria, who, like 
Maria Antoinette, had purchased them out of her pri- 
vate savings. Hence it is clear, that neither of the two 
queens were chargeable to the state, even for those little 
indigencies, which every private lady of property is 
permitted from her husband, without coming under the 
lash of censure. 

^ Her allowance, as queen of France, was no more 
than 300,000 francs {£ 12,250.) It is well known that 

the gauze architect, Mademoiselle Bertin, to alter it so as to con- 
form thoroughly to the model. This was executed ; and Maria 
Antoinette went to her morning visiters. The royal hair-dresser, 
according to custom, was in attendance there, with an embellish- 
ment, of which she did not perceive the use. " What are these 
steps for?" exclaimed she to the tire-woman.— The knight of the 
comb advanced, and, making a most profound reverence, humbly 
represented to her majesty, that Mademoiselle Bertin having so 
enormously increased the height of the head ornaments, it would 
be impossible for him to establish them upon a firm foundationj 
unless he could have a complete command of the head they were 
to be fixed on ; and being but of the middle size, and her majesty 
very tall, he could not achieve the duty of his office without 
mounting three or four steps ; which he did, to the great amuse- 
ment of the queen and the whole party, and thus placed the ne 
plus ultra of Mademoiselle Bertie's invention, to the best of his 
own judgment, on the pinnacle of the royal head ! 

As Hamlet says of Yorick — ^" Alas! where be your flashes of 
merriment now ?" — Who would have dared, at that toilette, and 
among those smiles, to have prognosticated the cruel fate of the 
he^d, which then attracted guch general admiration! 



CHAPTER IV. 75 

she was generous, liberal, and very charitable : that she 
paid all her expenses regularly, respecting her house- 
hold, Trianon, her dresses, diamonds, millinery, and 
every thing else ; her court establishment excepted, and 
some few articles, which were paid by the civil list. She 
was one of the first queens in Europe, had the first es- 
tablishment in Europe, and was obliged to keep up the 
most refined and luxurious court in Europe ; and all upon 
means no greater than had been assigned to many of the 
former bigotted queens, who led a cloistered life, retired 
from the world, without circulating their wealth among 
the nation, which supplied them with so large a reve- 
nue ; and yet who lived and died uncensured for hoard- 
ing from the nation what ought at least to have beea in 
part expended for its advantage,* 

* The queens of England, who never had occasion to keep a 
court like that of France, besides the revenue allowed them, it is 
said, and with some authority, have sinecures, resulting merely 
from the insertion of their names in the liturgy, of eighty thousand 
pounds a year; and it is farther added, that Madome Schwallem- 
berg was of no little service to herself and others, in exercising 
the bi'okership of these ecclesiastical benefices. 

Now, then, for all this outcry against the extravagance of the 
court of France, levelled in particular against Maria Antoinette, 
for having lavished the national wealth, upon which pretext ' her 
life was made a scene of suffering, and her death a martyrdom! 
Let me take a momentary retrospect of the modest expenses oli 
her murderers, the scrupulous sans culottes, who succeeded the 
court of Louis XVL and committed all their horrors, in the name 
of national economy; for here is the record, taken from the public 
register of the 500 tyrants, mountebank ragamuffins, overthrowers 
of thrones, king-killers, and sworn enemies of royalty, slaves to the 
five buffoons of leaders, whose only virtue was that of wearing a 
filthy shirt a month, and then turning it, for the comfort and en- 
joyment of clean linen next their polluted bodies ! 

Ministerial Public Expenses. 
30 millions of francs an ministre de la justice. 



7B <';!iAPTKit tv. 

* And yet of all the extra expenditure which the dig- 
nity and circumstances of Maria Antoinette exacted, not a 
franc came from the public treasury ; but every thing out 
of her majesty's private purse and savings from the above 
three hundred thousand francs, which was an infinitely 
less sum than Louis XIV. had lavished yearly on the 
Dutchess de Montespan, and less than half what Louis 
XV. had expended on the two last favourites, Pompadour 
and Du Barry. These two women, as clearly appeared 
from the private registers found among the papers of 
Louis XV. after his deaths by Louis XVL (but which, 
out of respect for the memory of his grandfather, he de~ 
stroyed,) these two women had amassed more property 
in diamonds and other valuables, than all the queens of 
France from the days of Catherine de Medicis up to 
those of Maria Antoinette.* 

900 a cehii de Pinterieur. 

200 ••••• a celui des finances. 

1200 a celui de la guerre. 

50 • • a celui des relations exterieures. 

600 • a celui de la marine. 

Nearly three thousand millions or three milliards, besides two 
millions of secret service money in that particular year, which 
sometimes, according to the quantity and quality of their spies, 
exceeded this sum, but which never was less during this anarchi- 
cal government of miscreants. I have appended this trifling ac- 
count, merely to give the reader an idea of what naturally became 
the farther expenses, with which the nation was afterwards over- 
burthened, to support these regicide sans culottes, when, in the 
short time which elapsed betv/een the plundering bloody govern- 
ment of Robespierre and the return to a taste for culottes, no less 
a sum than 20 louis was expended on the mere embroidery of the 
flaps of one pair for t\\e public service! 

"^ The pensions and private landed property which Du Barry 
was allowed to enjoy unmolested till the iiital period of the revo- 
lution ; besides that of her predecessor ; being divided at her death 
among different branches of her nearest relations, has continued 
ever since their legitimate inheritance. 



ClTAPtEB ly. 77 

' Such was the goodness of heart of the excellent 
queen of Louis XVI. such the benevolence of her charac- 
ter, that not only did she pay all the pensions of the in- 
valids left by hej* predecessors, but she distributed in 
public and private charities greater sums than any of the 
former queens, thus increasing her expenses without any 
proportionate augmentation of her resources.* 

Note. 
I must once more quit the journal of the princess. Her 
highness here ceases to record particulars of the early 
part of the reign of Louis XVL and every thing essential 
upon those times is too well known to render it desirable 
to detain the reader by an attempt to supply the deficien- 
cy. It is enough to state, that the secret unhappiness of 
the queen, at not yet having the assurance of an heir, 
was by no means weakened by the impatience of the peo- 
ple, nor by the accouchement of the Countess D'Artois 
of the Duke D'Angouleme. While the queen continued 
the intimacy, and even held her parties at the apart- 
ments of the dutchess, that she might watch over her 
friend, even in this triumph over herself the poissardes 
grossly insulted her in her misfortune, and coarsely called 
on her to give heirs to the throne! 

* Indeed could Louis XVI. have foreseen, — when, in order not 
to expose the character of his predecessor and to honour the dig- 
nity of the thi'one and monarchy of France, he destroyed the pa- 
pers of his grandfather, — what an arm of strength he would have 
possessed in preserving them, against the accusers of his unfortu- 
nate queen and himself, he never could have thrown away such 
means of establishing a most honourable contrast between his own 
and former reigns. His career exhibits no superfluous expendi- 
ture. Its economy was most rigid. No sovereign was ever more 
scrupulous with the public money. He never had any public or 
private predilection ; no dilapidated minister for a favourite j no 
courtesan. For gaming he had no fondness 5 and if his abilities 
-were not splendid, he certainly had no predominating vices. 



78 CHAPTER IV. 

A consolation, however, for the unkind feelings o^ the 
populace, was about to arise in the delights of one of her 
strongest friendships, I am come to the epoch wlien her 
majesty first formed an acquaintance with the Princess 
Lamballe. 

After a few words of my own on the family of her 
highness, I shall leave her to pursue her beautiful and 
artless narrative of her parentage, early sorrows, and in- 
troduction to her majesty, unbroken. 

The journal of the history of Maria Antoinette, after 
this slight interruption for the private history of her 
friend, will become blended with the journal of the 
Princess Lamballe, and both thence forward, proceed in 
their course together, like their destinies, which from 
that moment, never became dis-united. 



( 79 ) 



CHAPTER y. 

Notes of the Editor. — Family of the Princess Lamballe. — JouTn," 
al resumed. — Her own account of herself. — Duke and Dutchess 
de Penthievre. — Mademoiselle de Penthievre and Prince Lam- 
balle. — King of Sardinia. — Ingenious and romantic anecdotes of 
the Princess Lamballe's marriage. — The Duke de Chartres, af- 
terwards Orleans, marries Mademoisselle de Penthievre. — De 
Chartres makes approaches to the Princess Lamballe. — Being 
scorned, corrupts her husband. — Prince Lamballe dies.— Sledge 
parties.— The princess becomes acquainted with the queen. — Is 
made her majesty's superintendant. 

Maria Theresa Louisa Carignan, Princess of Savoy^ 
was born at Turin, on the 8th September, 1749. 

She had three sisters : two of them were married at 
Rome, one to the Prince Doria Pamfili, the other to the 
Prince Colonna; and the third, at Vienna, to the Prince 
Lobkowitz, whose son was the great patron of the im- 
mortal Haydn,* the celebrated composer. She had a 

* The celebrated Hadyn, was. even at the age of 74, when I 
last saw him at Vienna, still tke most good-humoured bo7i vivant 
of his age. He delighted in Celling the origin of bis good fortune, 
which he said he entirely cwed to a bad wife ! 

When he was first married, he said, finding no remedy against 
domestic squabbles, he used to quit his bad half, and go and en^ 
joy himself with his goods friends, who were Hungarians and Ger- 
mans, for weeks t.3gether. Once, having returned iiome after a 
considerable absence, his wife, while he was in bed next morning, 
followed her husband's example : she did even more ; for she took 
all his clotlies, even to his shoes, stockings, and small clothes, 
nay, every thing he had, along with her! 

Thus situated, he was under the necessity of doing something 
to cover his nakedness; and this, he himself acknowledged, was 



80 CHAPTER V, 

brother also, the Prince Carignan, who, marrying against 
the consent of his family, was no longer received by 
them; but the unremitting and affectionate attention 
which the Princess Lamballe paid to him and his new 
connexions was an ample compensation for the loss he 
sustained in the severity of his other sisters.* 

With regard to the early life of the Princess Lam- 
balle, the arranger of these pages must now leave her to 
pursue her own beautiful and artless narrative unbroken, 
up to the epoch of her appointment to the household of 
the queen. It will be recollected, that the papers of 
which the reception has been already described in the 
introduction formed the private journal of this most ami- 
able princess; and those passages relating to her own 
early life, being the most connected part of them, it has 
been thought that to disturb them would be a kind of 
sacrilege. After the appointment of her highness to the 
superintendance of the queen's household, her manu- 
scripts again become confused, and fall into scraps and 

the first cause of his seriously applying himself to the profession 
which has since made his name immortal! 

He used to laugh, saying, "I was from that time so habituated 
to study, that my wife, often fearing it would injure me, would 
threaten me with the same optration, if I did not go out and 
amuse myself; but then," added i.e, « I was grown old, and she 
was sick, and no longer jealous." 

He spoke remarkably good Italian, though he had never been in 
Italy, and on my going to Vienna to hoar his ''Creation," he 
promised to accompany me back to Italy ', but he unfortunately 
died before I returned to Vienna from Carlsbj^d. 

* If I mistake not, the present Prince Carighan, famous in the 
late history of Piedmont, is a son of that marriage, the same who> 
is now distinguished by the title of " Prince of the Epaulets of a 
French soldier of the Trocadero." 

The Prince Carignan, I speak of, has been united to the daugh- 
ter of the late grand Duke of Tuscany, and is now the wily male 
heir to the crown of Sardinia, Piedmont, Savov, &c. 



CHAPTER V 81 

fragments, which will require to be once more render- 
ed clear by the recollections of events and conversa-^ 
tions, by which the preceding chapters have been as- 
sisted. 

' I was the favourite child of a numerous family, and 
intended, almost at my birth,— -as is generally the case 
among princes who are nearly allied to crowned heads, — 
to be united to one of the princes, my nej^y relation, of 
the royal house of Sardinia. 

^ A few years after this, the Duke and Dutchess de 
Penthievre arrived at Turin, in their way to Italy, for 
the purpose of visiting the diiferent courts, to make suit- 
able marriage contracts for both their infant children. 

^ These two children were Mademoiselle de Penthie- 
vre, afterwards the unhappy Dutchess of Orleans, and 
their idolized son, the Prince Lamballe.* 

*' Happy would it have been both for the prince who 
was destined to the former, and the princess who was gi- 
ven to the latter, had these unfortunate alliances never 
taken place. 

^ The Duke and Dutchess de Penthievre became so 
singularly attached to my beloved parents, and, in par- 
ticular, to myself, that the very day they first dined at 
the court of Turin, they mentioned the wish they had 

* The father of Louis Alexander Joseph Stanislaus de Bourbon 
Penthievre, Prince Lamballe, was tlie son of the Count de Tou- 
louse, himself a natural son of Louis XIV. and Madame de Mon- 
tespan, who was considered as the most wealthy of all the natural 
ifc)iildren, in consequence of Madame de Montespan having artful- 
ly entrapped the famous Mademoiselle de Montpensier to make 
over her immense fortune to him as her lieir after her death, as 
the price of liberating her husband from imprisonment in the Bas- 
tille, and herself from a ruinous prosecution, for having con- 
tracted this marriage contrary to the express commands of her 
royal cousin, Louis XIV.— rzrfe Histoire de Louis XIV. par Vol- 
taire, 

L 



83 CHAPTER V- 

formed, of uniting aie to their young soDj the Prrnce 
Lamballe. 

^ The King of Sardinia/ as the head, of the house of 
Savoy and Carignan, said there had been some conversa- 
tion as to my becoming a member of his royal family f 
but, as I was so very young at the time, many political 
reasons might arise to create motives for a change in the 
projected alliance. ^^ If, therefore, the Prince Carig- 
nan," said the king, "be anxious to settle his daugh- 
ter's marriage, by any immediate matrimonial alliance;* 
I certainly shall not avail myself of any prior engage- 
ment, nor oppose any obstacle in the way of its solem- 
nization." 

<^The consent of the king being thus unexpectedly 
obtained by the prince, so desirable did the arrangement 
seem to the duke and dutchess, that the next day the 
contract was concluded with my parents for my becoming 
the wife of their only son, the Prince Lamballe. 

^ I was too young to be consulted. Perhaps, had I 
been older, the result would have been the same, for it 
generally happens in these great family alliances, that 
the parties most interested, and whose happiness is most 
concerned, are the least thought of. The prince was, I 
believe, at Paris, under the tuition of his governess, and 
I was in the nursery, heedless, and totally ignorant of 
my future good or evil destination ! 

' So truly happy and domestic a life, as that led by 
the Duke and Dutchess de Penthievre, seemed to my fa= 
mily to offer an example too propitious, not to secure to 
me a degree of felicity with a private prince, very rare- 
ly the result of royal unions! of course, their consent 
was given with alacrity. When I was called upon to do 
homage to my future parents, I had so little idea, from 
my extreme youthfulness, of what was going on, that I 
set them all laughing? when, on being asked if I should 



CIlAPTEii V. 83 

like to become the consort of the Prince Lamballe; I 
said, ^^Yes, I am very fond of music!" — "No, my 
dear," resumed the good and tender-hearted Duke de 
Penthievre, "I mean, would you have any objection to 
become his wife?" — " No, nor any other person's?" was 
the innocent reply, which increased the mirth of all the 
guests at my expense. 

'Happy, happy days of youthful, thoughtless inno- 
cence, luxuriously felt and appreciated under the thatch- 
ed roof of the cottage, but unknown and unattainable 
beneath the massive pile of a royal palace and a gem- 
med crown ! Scarcely had I entered my teens, when 
my adopted parents strewed flowers of the sweetest fra- 
grance to lead me to the sacred altar, that promised the 
bliss of blisses, but which, too soon, from the foul 
'machinations of envy, jealousy, avarice, and a still 
more criminal passion, proved to me the altar of my sa- 
crifice ! 

^ My misery and my uninterrupted grief may be da- 
ted from the day my beloved sister-in-law, Mademoiselle 
de Penthievre, sullied her hand by its union with the 
Duke de Chartres.* From that moment, all comfort, all 
prospect of connubial happiness, left my young and af- 
fectionate heart, plucked thence by the very roots, never 
more again to bloom there. Religion and philosophy 
were the only remedies remaining. 

< I was a bride when an infant, a wife before I was a 
woman, a widow before I was a mother, or had the pro- 
spect of becoming one ! Our union was perhaps an ex- 
ception to the general rule. We became insensibly the 
more .attached to each other, the more we were acquaint- 
cid, which rendered the more severe the separation, 

* Afterwards Duke of Orleans, and the celebrated revolutiona- 
ry Philip Egalite. 



84 CHAPTER V. 

when we were torn asunder never to meet again in this 
world ! 

' After I left Turin, though every thing for my recep- 
tion at the palaces of Toulouse and Rambouillet, had 
been prepared in the most sumptuous style of magnifi- 
cence, yet such was ray agitation, that I remained con- 
vulsively speechless for many hours, and all the affection- 
ate attention of the family of the Duke de Penthievre 
could not calm my feelings. 

^ Among those who came about me, was the bride- 
groom himself, whom I had never yet seen. So anxious 
was he to have his first acquaintance incognito^ that he 
set off from Paris the moment he was apprized of my ar- 
rival in France, and presented himself as the prince's 
page. As he had out-grown the figure of his portrait, 
I received him as such ; but the prince being better 
pleased with me than he had apprehended he should be, 
could scarcely avoid discovering himself. During our 
journey to Paris I myself disclosed the interest with 
which the supposed page had inspired me. " I hope,'' 
exclaimed I, " my prince will allow his page to attend 
me, for I like him much/'' 

^ What was my surprise when the Duke de Penthievre 
presented me to the prince, and I found in him the page 
for whom I had already felt such an interest ! We both 
laughed, and wanted words to express our mutual seriti- 
mentSc This was really love at first sight.* 

•'■ The young prince was enraptured at finding his lovely bride 
so superior in personal charms to the description which had been 
given of her, and even to the portrait sent to hiin from Turin. In- 
deed, she must have been a most beautiful creature, for when I 
left her in the year 1792, though then five -uid forty years of age, 
from the freshness of her complexion, the elegance of her figure, 
and the dignity of her deportment, she certainly did not appear to 
be more than thirty. She had a fine head of hair, and she took 



CHAPTER Y. 85 

;-^ The Duke de Chartres, then possessing a very hand- 
some person and most insinuating address, soon gained 
the affections of the amiable Mademoiselle Penthievre. 
Becoming thus a member of the same family, he paid me 
the most assiduous attention. From my being his sister- 
in-law, and knowing he was aware of my great attach- 
ment to his young wife, I could have no idea, that his 
views were criminally levelled at my honour, my hap- 
piness, and my future peace of mind. How, therefore, 
was 1 astonished and shocked, when he discovered to me 
his desire to supplant the legitimate object of my affec- 
tions, whose love for me equalled mine for him ! I did 
not expose this baseness of the Duke de Chartres, out of 
filial affection for my adopted father, the Duke de Pen- 
thievre ; out of the love I bore his amiable daughter, 
she being pregnant ; and, above all, in consequence of 
the fear I was under of compromising the life of the 
prince my husband, who, I apprehended, might be lost 
to me, if I did not suffer in silence. But still through 
my silence he was lost — and oh, how dreadfiilly! The 
prince was totally in the dark as to the real character of 
his brother-in-law. He blindly became every day more 
and more attached to the man, who was then endeavour- 
ing, by the foulest means, to blast the fairest prospects of 

great pleasure in showing it unornamented. I remember one day 
on her coming hastily from the bath, as she was putting on her 
dress, her cap falling oiF, her hair completely covered her! 

The circumstances of her death always make me shudder at the 
recollection of this incident! 

I have been assured by Mesdaraes Mackau, de Soucie, the 
Countess de Noailles (not dutchess, as Mademoiselle Bertin-has 
created her in her Memoirs of that name,) and others, that tlie. 
Princess Lamballe was considered the most beautiful and accom- 
plished princess at the court of Louis XV. adorned with all the 
grace, virtue, and elegance of manner, whjoh so eminently distin- 
guished her througli lite. 



86 CMAPTEll V. 

his future happiness iu life ! But my guardian angel pro- 
tected me from becoming a victim to seduction, defeating 
every attack by that prudence, which has hitherto been 
my invincible shield. 

^ Guilt, unpunished in its first crime, rushes onward, 
and, hurrying from one misdeed to another, like the 
flood-tide, drives all before it ! My silence, and his being 
defeated without reproach, armed him with courage for 
fresh daring, and he too well succeeded in embittering 
the future days of my life, as well as those of his own 
affectionate wife, and his illustrious father-in-law, the 
virtuous Duke de Penthievre, who vt^as to all a father. 

' To revenge himself upon me for the repulse he met 
with, this man inveigled my young, inexperienced hus- 
band from his bridal bed to those infected with the nause- 
ous poison of every vice! Poor youth ! he soon became the 
prey of every refinement upon dissipation and studied 
debauchery, till, at length, his sufferings made his life a 
burthen, and he died in the most excruciating agonies 
both of mind and body, in the arms of a disconsolate 
wife and a distracted father — and thus, in a few short 
months, at the age of eighteen, was I left a widow, to la- 
ment my having become a wife ! 

< I was in this situation, retired from the world, and 
absorbed in grief, with the ever beloved and revered il- 
lustrious father of my murdered lord, endeavouring to 
sooth his pangs for the loss of those comforts in a child, 
with which my cruel disappointment forbade my ever 
being blest, — though in tlie endeavour too sooth, I often 
only aggravated both his and my own misery at our irre- 
trievable loss, — when a ray of unexpected light burst 
upon my dreariness. It was amid this gloom of human 
agony, these heart-rending scenes of real mourning, that 
the brilliant star shone to disperse the clouds, which ho- 
vered over our drooping heads,— to dry the hot briny 



CHAPTER V. 87 

tears, which were parching up our miserable vegetating 
existence, — it was in this crisis that Maria Antoinette 
came, like a messenger sent down from Heaven, gra- 
ciously to offer the balm of comfort in the sweetest lan- 
guage of human compassion. The pure emotions of her 
generous soul made her unceasing, unremitting, in her 
visits to two mortals, who must else have perislied under 
the weight of their misfortunes. But for the consolation 
of her warm friendship, we must have sunk into utter 
despair ! 

^From that moment, I became seriously attached to 
the Queen of France. She dedicated a great portion of 
her time to calm the anguish of my poor heart, though I 
had not yet accepted the honour of becoming a member 
of her majesty's household. Indeed I was a considerable 
time before I could think of undertaking a charge I felt 
myself so completely incapable of fulfilling.* I endea- 
voured to check the tears, Uiat were pouring down my 
cheeks, to conceal, in the queen's presence, the real 

* I am under the necessity of correcting an error of Madame 
Campan's, in Vol. I. page 129.-r-The queen had been long attach- 
ed to the Princess Lamballe before the sledge parties took place, 
though it was only during that amusement that the superintend- 
ance of the household of the queen was revived in her favour.' — It 
is not at all likely, from the unlimited authority and power which 
the situation gave a superintendant over her majesty, that the 
queen, who was so scrupulously particular with respect to the 
meanest of the persons who held any charge in her household, 
should have placed herself under the immediate control of one, 
whose office might itself be a check upon her own movements, 
without being first thoroughly assured of the principles, morals, 
character, and general conduct of the individual destined to a post 
of such importance. Nothing can be more absurd than to believe 
that the queen could have been so heedless, as to have nominated 
the Princess Lamballe her superintendant, ex abrupta, merely be- 
cause she was the Princess Lamballe. 



88 CHAPTER V. 

feelings of my heart ; but the effort only served to in- 
crease my anguish when she had departed. Her attach- 
irient to me^ and the cordiality with which she distin- 
guished herself towards the Duke de Penthievre, gave 
her a place in that heart, which had been chilled by the 
fatal vacuum left by its first inhabitant ; and Maria An- 
toinette was the only rival through life, that usurped his 
pretensions, though she could never wean me completely 
from his memory. 

^ My health, from the melancholy life I led, had so 
much declined, that my affectionate father, the Duke de 
Penthievre, with whom I continued to reside, was anx- 
ious that I should emerge from my retirement, for the 
benefit of my health. Sensible of his affection, and 
having always honoured his counsels, I took his advice 
in this instance. It being in the hard winter, when so 
many persons were out of bread, the queen, the Dutchess 
of Orleans, the Duke de Penthievre, and myself, intro- 
duced the German sledges, in which we were followed 
by most of the nobility and the rich citizens. This af- 
forded considerable employment to different artificers^ 
The first use I made of my own new vehicle was to visit, 
in company of the Duke de Penthievre, the necessitous 
poor families, and our pensioners. In the course of our 
rounds we met the queen. 

* '^''I suppose," exclaimed her majesty, " you also are 
laying a good foundation for my work ! Heavens ! what 
must the poor feel ! I am wrapped up, like a diamond 
in a box, covered with furs, and yet I am chilled with 
cold !" 

* " That feeling sentiment," said the duke, ^^ will soon 
warm many a cold family's heart with gratitude to bless 
your majesty !" 

* '^ Why, yes!" replied her majesty, showing a long 
piece of paper containing the names of those to whom 



CHAPTEU V. 89 

she intended to afford relief— -^^ I have only collected two 
hundred yet on my list, but tiie cure will do the rest, 
and help me to draw the strings of my privy purse! But 
I have not half done my rounds. I dare say before I re- 
turn to Versailles I shall have as many more, and, since 
we are engaged in the same business, pray come into my 
sledge, and do not take my work out of my hands ! Let 
me have for once the merit of doing something good V^ 

* On the coming up of a number of other vehicles be- 
longing to the sledge party, the queen added, ^^Do not say 
any thing about what I have been telling you !" for her 
majesty never wished what she did in the way of charity 
or donations should be publicly known, the old pensioners 
excepted, who, being on the list could not be concealed ; 
especially, as she continued to pay all those she found of 
the late queen of Louis XV. She was remarkably deli- 
cate and timid with respect to hurting the feelings of 
any one ; and fearing the Duke de Penthievre might not 
be pleased at her pressing me to leave him in order to 
join her, she said, '' Well, I will let you off, princess, on 
your both promising to dine with me at Trianon ; for 
the king is hunting, not deer, but wood for the poor, 
and he will see his game off to Paris before he comes 
back." 

^ The duke begged to be excused, but wished me to 
accept the invitation, which I did, and we parted, each 
to pursue our different sledge excursions. 

« At the hour appointed, I made my appearance at 
Trianon, and had the honour to dine tete-a-tete with hep 
majesty, which was much more congenial to my feelings, 
than if there had been a party, as I was still very low- 
spirited and unhappy. 

' After dinner, " My dear princess," said the queen 
to me " at your time of life you must not give yourself 
up entirely to the dead. You wrong the living. We 

M 



90 (J H AFTER V. 

have not been sent into the world for ourselves. I have 
felt much for your situation, and still do so, and there- 
fore hope, as long as the weather permits, that you will 
favour me with your Company to enlarge our sledge ex- 
cursions. The king, and my dear sister Elizabeth, are 
also much interested about your coming on a visit to Ver- 
sailles. What think you of our plan ?" 

^ I thanked her majesty, the king, and the princess, 
for their kindness, but I observed, that my state of 
health and mind could so little correspond in any way 
with the gratitude I should owe them for their royal 
favours, that I trusted a refusal would be attributed to 
the fact of my consciousness, how much rather my society 
must prove an annoyance and a burthen, than a source of 
pleasure. 

' My tears flowing down my cheeks rapidly while I 
was speaking, the queen, with that kindness for which 
she was so eminently distinguished, took me by the handj, 
and with her handkerchief dried my face. 

^^^I am," said the queen, "about to renew a situa- 
tion, which has for some time past lain dormant ; and I 
hope, my dear princess, therewith to establish my own 
private views, in forming the happiness of a worthy in- 
dividual." 

' I replied that such a plan must ensure her majesty 
the desired object she had in view, as no individual could 
be otherwise than happy, under the immediate auspices 
of so benevolent and generous a sovereign. 

^ The queen, with great affability, as if pleased with 
my observation, only said, "If you really think as yoa 
speak, my views are accomplished." 

* My carriage was announced, and I then left her ma- 
jesty, highly pleased at her gracious condescension, which 
evidently emanated from the kind wish; to raise my 
drooping spirits from ^heir melancholyo 



CHAPTER V. 91 

' Gratitude would not permit to continue long without 
demonstrating to her majesty the sentiments her kindness 
had awakened in my heart. 

' I returned next day with my sister-in-law, the 
Dutchess of Orleans, who was much esteemed by the 
queen, and we joined the sledge parties with her ma- 
jesty. 

' On the third or fourth day of these excursions, I 
again had the honour to dine with her majesty, when, in. 
the presence of the Princess Elizabeth, she asked me, if 
I were still of the same opinion with respect to the per- 
son it was her intention to add to her household ? 

^ I myself had totally forgotten the topic, and entreated 
her majesty's pardon for my want of memory, and beg- 
ged she would signify to what subject she alluded. 

^ The Princess Elizabeth laughed. ^^ I thought,'^ 
cried she, " that you had known it long ago ! The queen, 
with his majesty's consent has nominated you, ray dear 
princess, (embracing me,) superintendant of her house- 
hold." 

^ The queen also embracing me, said, ^^ Yes : it is 
very true. You said the individual destined to such a 
situation could not be otherwise than happy; and I am 
myself thoroughly happy in being able thus to contribute 
towards rendering you so." 

< I was perfectly at a loss for a moment or two, but re- 
covering myself from the ejffect of this unexpected and 
unlooked for preferment, I thanked her majesty with the 
best grace I was able, for such an unmerited mark of dis- 
tinction. 

< The queen, perceiving my embarrassment, observed, 
'^ I knew I should surprise you ; but I thought your be- 
ing established at Versailles much more desirable for one 
of your rank and youth, than to be, as you were, with 
the Duke de Penthievre; who, much as I esteem his 



92 OHAPFER Y, 

amiable chapacter and numerous great virtues, is by no 
means the most cheering companion for my charming 
princess. From this moment let our friendships be uni- 
ted in the common interest of each other's happiness." 

' The queen took me by the hand. The Princess Eli- 
zabeth, joining hers, exclaimed to the queen, ^^ Oh, my 
dear sister ! let me make the trio in this happy union of 
friends!" 

<^ In the society of her adored majesty and of her saint- 
like sister Elizabeth, I have found my only balm of con- 
solation ! Their graciously condescending to sympathise 
in the grief with which I was overwhelmed from the 
cruel disappointment of my fi^st love, filled up, in some 
degree, the vacuum left by his loss, who was so prema- 
turely ravished from me in the flower of youth, leaving 
me a widow at eighteen ; and though that loss is one I 
never can replace, or forget, the poignancy of its effect 
has been in a great degree softened by the kindnesses of 
my excellent father-in-law, the Duke de Penthievre, and 
the relations resulting from my situation with, and the 
never ceasing attachment of my beloved royal mistress.' 



93 ) 



CHAPTER VI. 

Observations of the editor on the various parties against Laraballe, 
in consequence of her appointment. — Its injury to the qbeen. 
— Particulars of Lamballe, the duties of her office, and her con- 
duct in it. — The Polignacs. — Character of the countess Diana. 
-—Journal resumed. — x\ccount of the first introduction to the 
queen of the Dutchess Julie de Polignac. — The queen's sudden 
and violent attachment to her. — Calumnies resulting from it. — 
Remark on female friendships. — Lamballe recedes from the 
queen's intimacy. — At the duke her father-in-law's, is near fall- 
ing a victim to poison. — Alarm of the queen, who goes to her, 
and forces her back to court. — Her majesty annoyed at Lam- 
balle's not visiting the Polignacs. — Her reasons.— The Abbe 
Vermond retires, and returns. 

The connexion of the Princess Lamballe with the 
queen, of which she has herself described the origin in 
the preceding chapter, proved so important in its influ- 
ence upon the reputation and fate of both these illustri- 
ous victims, that I must once more withdraw the atten- 
tion of the reader, to explain, from personal observation 
and confidential disclosures, the leading causes of the 
violent dislike which was kindled in the public against an 
intimacy, that it would have been most fortunate had her 
majesty preferred through life to every other. 

The selection of a friend by the queen, and the sudden 
elevation of that friend to the highest station in the royal 
household, could not fail to alarm the selfishness of cour- 
tiers, who always feel themselves injured by the favour 
shown to others. An obsolete office was revived in fa- 
vour of the Princess Lamballe. In the time of Maria 
Leckzinska, wife of Louis, XV. the office of superinten- 
dant, then held by Mademoiselle de Clermont, was sup- 



94 CHAPTER VI» 

pressed when its holder died. The office gave a control 
over the inclinations of queens, by which Maria Leck- 
zinska was sometimes inconvenienced ; and it had lain 
dormant ever since. Its restoration by a queen, who, it 
was believed, could be guided by no motive but the de- 
sire to seek pretexts for showing undue favour, was, of 
course, eyed askance, and ere long openly calumniated. 

The Countess de Noailles, who never could forget the 
title the queen gave her of Madame Etiquette, nor for- 
give the frequent jokes which her majesty passed upon 
her antiquated formality, availed herself of the opportu- 
nity offered by her husband's being raised to the dignity 
of Marshal of France, to resign her situation on the ap- 
pointment of the Princess Lamballe as superintendant. 
The countess retired with feelings embittered against her 
royal mistress, and her annoyance, in the sequel, ripen- 
ed into enmity. The countess was attached to a very 
powerful party, not only at court, but scattered through- 
out the kingdom. Her discontent arose from the cir- 
cumstance, of no longer having to take her orders from 
the queen direct, but from her superintendant. Ridicu- 
lous as this may seem to an impartial observer, it created 
one of the most powerful hostilities against which her 
majesty had afterwards to contend. 

Though the queen esteemed the Countess de Noailles 
for her many good qualities, yet she was so much put 
out of her way by the rigour with which the countess 
enforced forms, which to her majesty appeared puerile 
and absurd, that she felt relieved, and secretly gratified, 
by her retirement. It will be shown hereafter to what 
an access the countess was eventually carried by her ma- 
lice. 

One of the popular objections to the revival of the of- 
fice of superintendant in favour of the Princess Lam= 
b<alle, arose from its reputed extravagance. This was as 



CHAPTER Vl. 95 

groundless as the o^er charges against the queen. The 
etiquettes of dress, and the requisite increase of every 
other expense, from the augmentation of every article of 
the necessaries, as well as the luxuries of life, made a 
treble difference between the expenditure of the cir- 
cumscribed court of Maria Leckzinska, and that of 
Louis XVI. ; yet the Princess Lamballe received no 
more salary* than had been allotted to Mademoiselle 
de Clermont in the self-same situation, half a century 
before ! 

So far from possessing the slightest propensity either 
to extravagance in herself, or to the encouragement of 
extravagance in others, the Princess Lamballe was a 
model of prudence, and upon those subjects, as indeed 
upon all others, the queen could not have had a more 
discreet counsellor. She eminently contributed to the 
charities of the queen, who was the mother of the fa^ 
therless, the support of the widow, and the general pro- 
tectress and refuge of suffering humanity. Previous to 
the purchase of any article of luxury, the princess would 
call for the list of the pensioners : if any thing were due 
on that account, it was instantly paid, and the luxury 
dispensed with. 

She never made her appearance in the queen's apart- 
ments except- at established hours. This was scrupu- 
lously observed, till the revolution. Circumstances then 
obliged her to break through forms. The queen would 
only receive communications, either written or verbal, 
upon the subjects growing out of that wretched crisis, in 
the presence of the princess; and hence her apartments 

* And even that salary she ne-ver appropriated to any private 
useof her own, being amply supplied through the generous boun- 
ty of her father-in-law, the Duke de Penthievre ; and latterly, to 
my knowledge, so far from receiving any pay, she often paid the 
queen and princess Elizabeth's bills out of her own purse. 



96 CHAPTER VI. 

were open to all who had occasion to see her majesty-. 
This made their intercourse more constant and uncere- 
monious. But before this, the princess only went to the 
royal presence at fixed hours, unless she had memorials 
to present to the king, queen, or ministers, in favour of 
such as asked for justice or mercy. Hence, whenever 
the princess entered before the stated times, the queen 
would run and embrace her, and exclaim — -^^ Well, my 
dear Princess Lamballe! what widow, what orphan^ 
what suffering, or oppressed petitioner am I to thank for 
this visit? for I know you never come to me empty- 
handed, when you come unexpectedly!"— The princess, 
on these occasions, often had the petitioners waiting in 
an adjoining apartment, that they might instantly avail 
themselves of any inclination the queen might show to 

see them. 

Once the princess was deceived by a female painter of 
doubtful character, who supplicated her to present a 
work she had executed to the queen, I myself after- 
wards returned that work to its owner. Thence for- 
ward, the princess became very rigid in her inquiries^ 
previous to taking the least interest in any application^ 
or consenting to present any one personally to the king 
or queen. She required thoroughly to be informed of 
the nature of the request, and of the merit and charac- 
ter of the applicant, before she would attend to either. 
Owing to this caution, her highness scarcely ever after 
met with a negative. In cases of great importance^ 
though tbe queen's compassionate and good heart, need- 
ed no stimulus to jmpel her to forward the means of 
justice, the princess would call the influence of the Prin- 
cess Elizabeth to her aid ; and Elizabeth never sued in 
vain. 

Maria Antoinette paid the greatest attention to all me^ 
morials. They were regularly collected every vyeek by 



CILVPTEII VI. 97 

her majesty's private secretary, the Abbe Vermond. I 
have myself seen many of them, when returned from the 
Princess Lamballe, with the qiieen's marginal notes in 
her own hand-writing, and the answers dictated by her 
majesty to the different officers of the departments, re- 
lative to the nature of the respective demands. She al- 
ways recommended the greatest attention to all public 
documents, and annexed notes to such as passed through 
her hands, to prevent their being thrown aside or lost. 

One of those, who were least satisfied with the ap- 
pointment of the Princess Lamballe to the office of su- 
perintendant, was her brother-in-law the Duke of Or- 
leans, who having attempted her virtue on various occa- 
sions, and been repulsed, became mortified and alarmed, 
at her situation, as a check to his future enterprise. 

At one time, the Duke and Dutchess of Orleans were 
most constant and assiduous in their attendance on Maria 
Antoinette. They were at all her parties. The queen 
was very fond of the dutchess. It is supposed, that the 
interest her majesty took in that lady, and the steps to 
which some time afterwards that interest led, planted the 
first seeds of the unrelenting and misguided hostility, 
which, in the deadliest times of the revolution, anima- 
ted the Orleanists against the throne. 

The duke of Orleans, then the Duke de Chartres, was 
never a favourite of the queen. He was only tolerated 
at court, on account of his wife, and of the great intima- 
cy which subsisted between him and Count D'Artois. 
Louis XVI. had often expressed his disapprobation of 
the duke's character, which his conduct daily justified. 

The Princess Lamballe could have no cause to think 
of her brother-in-law but with horror. He had insulted 
her, and, in revenge at his defeat, had, it was said, de- 
prived her, by the most awful means, of her husband. 
The princess was tenderly attached to her sister-in-law, 

N 



S8 CHAPTER VI. 

the dutchess. Her attachment could Hot but make her 
look very unfavourably upon the circumstance of the 
duke's subjecting his wife to the humiliation of residing 
in the palace with Madame de Genlis, and being forced 
to receive a person of morals so incorrect as the guar- 
dian of her children. The dutchess had complained to 
her father, the Duke de Penthievre, in the presence of 
the Princess Laraballe, of the very great ascendancy 
Madame de Genlis exercised over her husband ; and had 
even requested the queen to use her influence in detach- 
ing the duke from this connexion.* But she had too 
much gentleness of nature not presently to forget her 
resentment. Being much devoted to her husband, ra- 
ther than irritate him to further neglect by personal re- 
monstrance, she determined to make the best of a bad 
business, and tolerated Madame de Genlis, although she 
made no secret among her friends and relations of the 
reason why she did so. Nay, so far did her wish, not 
to disoblige her husband, prevail over her own feelings, 
as to induce her to yield at last to his importunities, by 
frequently proposing to present Madame de Genlis to 
the queen. But Madame de Genlis never could obtain 
either a public or a private audience. Though the 
queen was a great admirer of merit, and was fond of en- 
couraging talents, of which Madame de Genlis was by 
no means deficient, yet even the account the dutchess 
herself had given, had her majesty possessed no other 
means of knowledge, would have sealed that lady's ex- 
clusion from the opportunities of display at court, which 
she sought so earnestly. 

There was another source of exasperation against the 



* It was generally understood, that the duke had a daughter bj 
Madame de Genlis. This daughter, when grown upy was married 
to the late Irish Lord Robert Fitzcrgerald» 



CHAPTER vr. 99 

Duke of Orleans; and the great cause of a new, and 
though less obtrusive, yet perhaps an equally dangerous 
foe, under all the circumstances, in Madame de Genlis. 
The anonymous slander of the one was circulated 
through all France by the other; and spleen and disap- 
pointment feathered the venomed arrows shot at the 
heart of power by malice and ambition ! Be the charge 
true or false, these anonymous libels were generally con- 
sidered as the offspring of this lady; they were indus- 
triously scattered by the Duke of Orleans; and their 
frequent refutation by the queen's friends only increased 
the malignant industry of their inventor. 

An event, which proved the most serious of all that 
ever happened to the queen, and the consequences of 
which were distinctly foreseen by the Princess Lamballe, 
and others of her true friends, was now growing to ma- 
turity. 

The deposed court oracle, the Countess de Noailles, 
had been succeeded, as literary leader, by the Countess 
Diana Polignac. She was a favourite of the Count D' Ar- 
tois, and was the first lady in attendance upon the 
countess his wife.* The queen's conduct had always 

* The Countess Diana Polignac had a much better education, 
and considerably more natural capacity, than her sister-in-law the 
dutchess, and the queen merely disliked her from her prudish af- 
fectation. The Countess D'Artois grew jealous of the count's 
intimacy with the Countess Diana. While she considered herself 
as the only one of the royal family likely to be mother of a future 
sovereign, she was silent, or perhaps too much engrossed by her 
castles in the air, to think of any thing but diadems ; but when 
she saw the queen producing heirs, she grew out of humour at her 
lost popularity, and began to turn her attention to her husband's 
Endymionship to this new Diana! When she had made up her 
mind to get her rival out of her house, she consulted one of the 
family ; but being told, that the best means for a wife to keep her 
husband out of harm's way was to provide him with a domestic 



100 criAPTEii vr. 

been very cool to her. She deemed her a self- sufficient 
coquette. However, the Countess Diana was a constant 
attendant at the gay parties, which where then the 
fashion of the court, though not greatly admired. 

The reader will scarcely need to be informed, that the 
event to which I have just alluded, is the introduction by 
the Countess Diana, of her sister-in-law the Countess 
Julie Polignac, to the queen ; and having brought the 
record up to this point, I here once more dismiss my 
own pen for that of the Princess LambalJe. 

It will be obvious to every one, that I must have been 
indebted to the conversations of my beloved patroness? 
for most of the sentiments and nearly all the facts I have 
just been stating; and had the period, on which she has 
written so little as to drive me to the necessity of writing 
for her, been less pregnant with circumstances almost 
entirely personal to herself, no doubt I should have found 
more upon that period in her manuscript. But the 
year of which her highness says so little was the year of 
happiness and exclusive favour; and the princess was 
above the vanity of boasting even privately in the self- 
confessional of her diary. She resumes her records with 
her apprehensions ; and thus proceeds describing the in- 
troduction of the.Couutess Julie de Polignac, regretting 
her ascendency over the queen, and foreseeing its fatal 
effects. 



occupation for his leisure hours at home, than which nothing could 
be better than a hand-maid under the same roof, she made a merit 
of necessity, and submitted ever after to retain the Countess 
Diana, as she had been prudently advised. The Countess Diana, 
in consequence, remained iu the family even up to the 17th Octo- 
ber, 1789, when she left Versailles in conipany with the Polignacs 
and the D'Artois, who all emigrated together from France to 
Italy, and lived at Sfria, on the Brenta, near Venice, for some 
time, till the Countess D'Artois went to Tiu-in. 



CHAPTER VI, 101 

*I had only been a twelvemonth in her majesty's 
service, which I believe was the happiest period of both 
our lives, when, at one of the court assemblies, the 
Countess Julie Polignac was first introduced by her sis- 
ter-in-law the Countess Diana Polignac, to the queen, 

^ She had lived in the country, quite a retired life, 
and appeared to be more the motherly woman, and the 
domestic wife, than the ambitious court lady, or royal 
sycophant. She was easy of access, and elegantly plain 
in her dress and deportment. 

* Her appearance at court was as fatal to the queen, as 
it was propitious to herself! 

* She seemed formed by nature to become a royal fa- 
vourite : unassuming, remarkably complaisant, possessing 
a refined taste, with a good-natured disposition, not 
handsome, but well formed, and untainted by haughti- 
ness or pomposity. 

^It would appear, from the effect her introduction had 
on the queen, that her domestic virtues were written in 
her countenance ; for she became a royal favourite before 
she had time to become a candidate for YoyaX favour. 

^The queen's sudden attachment to the Countess Julie, 
produced no alteration in my conduct, while I saw no- 
thing extraordinary to alarm me for the consequences of 
any particular marked partiality, by which the character 
and popularity of her majesty might be endangered.* 

'f But seeing the progress this lady made in the feelings 
of the queen's enemies, it became my duty, from the 
situation I held, to caution her majesty against the risks 
she ran in making her favourites friends : for it was very 



* The Princess Lamballe was too virtuous, too handsome, and 
much too noble in character and sentiment, meanly to nourish 
jealousy or envy. She was as much above it, as her personal and 
mental qualifications wece superior to those of her rival. 



102 CHAPTER VI. 

soon apparent how highly the court disapproved of this 
intimacy and partiality ; and the same feeling soon found 
its way to the many-headed monster, the people, who 
only saw the favourite without considering the charge 
she held. Scarcely had she felt the warm rays of royal 
favour, than the chilling blasts of envy and malice began 

•^to nip it in the bud of all its promised bliss ! Even long 
before she touched the pinnacle of her grandeur as go- 
verness of the royal children, the blackest calumny began 

* to show itself in prints, caricatures, songs, and pamphlets, 
of every description. 

^ A reciprocity of friendship between a queen and a 
subject, by those who never felt the existence of such a 
feeling as friendship, could only be considered in a cri- 
minal point of view. But by what perversion could sus- 
picion frown upon the ties between two married wome% 
both living in the greatest harmony with their respective 
husbands (especially, when both became mothers and so 
devoted to their offspring?) This boundless friendship 
did glow between this calumniated pair : — calumniated, 
because the sacredness and peculiarity of the sentiment, 
which united them, was too pure to be understood by the 
grovelling minds who made themselves their sentencers. 
The friend is the friend's shadow. The real sentiment 
of friendship, of which disinterested sympathy is the 
sign, cannot exist unless between two of the same sex, 
because a physical difference involuntarily modifies the 
complexion of the intimacy, where the sexes are oppo- 
site, even though there be no physical relations. The 
queen of France had love in her eyes, and heaven in her 
soul. The Dutchess of Polignac, whose person beamed 
with every charm, could never have been condemned, 
like the Friars of La Trappe, to the mere memento 
mori ! 

^ When I had made the representations to her majesty 



CHAPTER \U 103 

which duty exacted from me, oft perceiving hep ungo- 
vernable partiality for her new favourite, that I might 
not importune her by the awkwardness naturally arising 
from my constant exposure to the necessity of witnessing 
an intimacy, she knew I did not sanction, I obtained per- 
mission from my royal mistress to visit my father-in -law, 
the Duke de Penthievre, at Rambouillet, his country 
seat. 

' Soon after I arrived there, I was taken suddenly ill 
after dinner with the most excruciating pains in my sto- 
mach. I thought myself dying. Indeed, I should have 
been so, but for the fortunate and timely discovery, that 
I was poisoned : — certainly, not intentionally, by any one 
belonging to my dear father's household ; but by some 
execrable hand which had an interest in my death. 

^ The affair was hushed up with a vague report, that 
some of the made dishes had been prepared in a stew- 
pan, long out of use, which the clerk of the duke's 
kitphen had forgotten to get properly tinned. 

^ This was a doubtful story for many reasons. Indeed, 
I firmly believe, that the poison given me had been pre- 
pared in the salt, for every one at table had eaten of the 
same dish without suffering the smallest inconvenience.* 

^ The news of this accident had scarcely arrived at 
Versailles, when the queen, astounded, and in excessive 
anxiety, instantly sent off her physician, and her private 
secretary the Abbe Vermond, to bring me back to my 
apartments at Versailles, with strict orders not to leave 

• Had not this unfortunate circumstance occurred, it is proba- 
ble the I>uke de Penthievre would have prevailed on the princess 
to have renounced her situation at court. What heart-rending 
grief would it not have spared the grey hairs of her doting father- 
in-law, and what a sea of crimes might have been obviated, had it 
pleased Heaven to have ordained her death under the paternal 
roof of her second father! 



104 CHAPTER VI. 

me a moment at the duke's, for fear of a second attempt 
of the same nature. Her majesty had imputed the first 
to the earnestness I had always shown in support of her 
interests, and she seemed now more ardent in her kind- 
ness towards me, from the idea of my being exposed 
through her means to the treachery of assassins in the 
dark. The queen awaited our coming impatiently, and 
not seeing the carriages return so quickly as she fancied 
they ought to arrive, she herself set off for Rambouillet, 
and did not leave me til! she had prevailed on me to quit 
my father-in-law's, and we both returned together the 
same night to Versailles, where the queen in person^ 
dedicated all her attention to the restoration of my 
health. 

^ As yet, however, nothing in particular had discover- 
ed that splendour, for which the Polignacs, were after- 
wards so conspicuous. 

^ Indeed, so little were their circumstances calculated 
for a court life, that, when the friends of Madame Po- 
lignac perceived the growing attachment of the young 
queen to the palladium of their hopes, in order to impel 
her majesty's friendship to repair the deficiencies of for- 
tune, they advised the magnet to quit the court abruptly^ 
assigning the want of means as the motive of her retreat. 
The story got wind, and proved propitious. 

' The queen, to secure the society of her friend, soon 
supplied the resources she required^ and took away the 
necessity for her retirement. But the die was cast. In 
gaining one friend she sacrificed a host. By this act of 
imprudent preference she lost for ever the affections of 
the old nobility. This was the gale which drove her 
back among the breakers. 

* I saw the coming storm, and endeavoured to make 
my sovereign feel its danger. Presuming that my exam- 
pie would be foljowedy I withdrew from the Polignac so- 



CHAPTER vr. 105 

ciety, and vainly flattered myself, that prudence would 
impel others not to encourage her majesty's amiable in- 
fatuation, till the consequences should be irretrievable. 
But sovereigns are always surrounded by those who make 
it a point to reconcile them to their follies, however, fla- 
grant: and keep them on good terms with themselves, 
however severely they may be censured by the world. 

»' If I had read the book of fate, I could not have seen 
more distinctly the fatal results which actually took place 
from this unfortunate connexion. The dutchess and my- 
self always lived in the greatest harmony, and equally 
shared the confidence of the queen : but it was my duty 
not to sanction her majesty's marked favouritism by ray 
presence. The queen often expressed her discontent to 
me upon the subject. She used to tell me how much it 
grieved her, to be denied success in her darling desire of 
uniting her friends with each other, as they were already 
united in her own heart. Finding my resolution unalter- 
able, she was mortified, but gave up her pursuit. When 
she became assured that all importunity was useless, she 
ever after avoided wounding ray feelings by remon- 
strance, and allowed me to pursue the system I had 
adopted, rather than deprive herself of my society, 
which would have been the consequence, had I not been 
left at liberty to follow the dictates of my own sense of 
propriety in a course from which I was resolved, that 
even her majesty's displeasure should not make me 
swerve. 

^ Once in particular, at an entertainment given to the 
Emperor Joseph at Trianon, I remember the queen took 
the opportunity to repeat, how much she felt herself 
mortified at the course in which I persisted, of never 
making my appearance at the Dutchess of Polignac's 
parties. 

'' I replied, ^* I believe, madam, we are both of qs dis° 

o 



106 CHAPTER VI. 

appointed; but your majesty has your remedy, byre- 
placing me by a lady less scrupulous." 

^ '^ I was too sanguine," said the queen, " in having 
flattered myself, that I had chosen two friends who would 
form, from their sympathising and uniting their senti- 
ments with each other, a society, which would embellish 
my privite life, as much as they adorn their public sta- 
tions." 

^ I said it was by my unalterable friendship, and my 
loyal and dutiful attachment to the sacred person of her 
majesty, that I had been prompted to a line of conduct, 
in which the motives whence it arose would impel me to 
persist, while I had the honour to hold a situation under 
her majesty's roof. 

*' The queen, embracing me, exclaimed, " That will 
be for life : for death alone can separate us !"* 

^ This is the last conversation I recollect to have had 
with the queen upon this distressing subject. 

<^ The Abbe Vermond, who had been her majesty's tu- 
tor, but who was now her private secretary, began to 
dread, that his influence over her, from having been her 
confidential adviser from her youth upwards, would sufBei* 
from the rising authority of the all-predominant new fa- 
vourite. Consequently, he thought proper to remon- 
strate, not with her majesty, but with those about her 
royal person. The queen took no notice of these side- 
wind complaints, not wishing to enter into any explana- 
tion of her conduct. On this, the Abbe withdrew from 
court. But he only retired for a short time, and that to 
make better terms for the future, Here was a new 



* Good Heaven 1 What must have been the feelings of tliese 
true, these sacred friends, the shadow of each other, on that fatal 
tenth of August, which separated them only to meet in a better 
world i 



CHAPTER VI. 107 

Spring for those who were supplying the army of calum- 
niators with poison. Happy had it been, perhaps, for 
France and the queen, if Vermond had never returned ! 
But the abbe was something like a distant country cousin 
of an English minister, a man of no talents, but who 
hoped for employment through the power of his kins- 
man. — " There is nothing on hand now," answered the 
minister, " but a bishop's mitre or a field marshal's 
staff.'' — "Oh, very well!" replied the countryman; 
'^ either will do for me till something better turns up." 
— The abbe, in his retirement, finding leisure to reflect 
that there was no probability of any thing " better turn- 
ing up" than his post of private secretary, tutor, confi- 
dant, and counsellor (and that not always the most cor- 
rect,) of a young and amiable queen of France, soon 
made his re-appearance, and kept his jealousy of the 
•Polignacs, ever after, to himself.* 

' The Abbe Vermond enjoyed much influence with 
regard to ecclesiastical preferments. He was too fond of 
t his situation, ever to contradict or thwart her majesty in 
any of her plans ; too much a courtier, to assail her ears 
with the language of truth ; and by far too much a cler- 
gyman, to interest himself but for Mother Church. 

' In short, he was more culpable in not doing his duty, 
than in the mischief he occasioned ; for he certainly of- 
tener misled the queen by his silence than by his advice. 

* He remained in the same situation, till the horrors of the re- 
volution drove him from it. 



( 108 



CHAPTER VII 

Journal continued. — Slanders against the Empress Maria Theresaj 
on account of Metastasio, give the queen a distaste for patroni- 
sing literature. — Private plajs and acting. — Censoriousness of 
those w^ho were excluded from them. — The queen's love of 
music— Gluck invited from Germany. — Anecdotes of Gluck- 
and his Armida. — Garat. — Viotti. — Madame St. Oberti. — 
Vestris. 

'I HAVE already mentioned, that Maria Antoinette 
had no decided taste for literature. Her mind rather 
sought its amusements in the ball-room, the promenade, 
the theatre, especially when she herself was a performer, 
and the concert-room, than in her library and among her 
books. Her coldness towards literary men may in some 
degree be accounted for by the disgust, which she toofi?^ 
at the calumnies and caricatures resulting from her mo- 
ther's partiality for her own revered teacher, the great 
Metastasio. The resemblance of most of Maria There- 
sa's children to that poet vvas coupled with the great 
patronage he received from the empress; and much less 
than these circumstances would have been quite enough 
to furnish a tale for the slanderer, injurious to the repu- 
tation of any exalted personage, 

* The taste of Maria Antoinette for private theatricals 
was kept up till the clouds of tlie revolution darkened 
over all her enjoyments. 

^ These innocent amusements were made subjects of 
censure against her by the many courtiers who were 
denied access to them ; while some, who were permitted 
to be present, were too well pleased wi'd't the opportunity 
of sneering at her mediocrity in the art, which those, 



CHAI'TEB VII. 109 

who could not see her, were ready to criticise with the 
utmost severity. It is believed, that Madame de Genlis 
found this too favourable an opportunity to be slighted. 
Anonymous satires upon the queen's performances, which 
were attributed to the malice of that authoress, were 
frequently shown to her majesty by good natured friends. 
The Duke de Fronsac, also, from some situation he held 
at court, though not included in the private household of 
her majesty at Trianon, conceiving himself highly injured 
by not being suffered to interfere, was much exasperated, 
and took no pains to prevent others from receiving the 
infection of his resentment. 

^ Of all the arts, music was the only one which her ma- 
jesty ever warmly patronised. For music she was an en- 
thusiast. Had her talents in this art been cultivated, it 
is certain, from her judgment in it, that she would have 
made very considerable progress. She sang little French 
airs with great taste and feeling. She improved much 
, uader the tuition of the great composer, her master, the 
celebrated Sacchini. After his death, Sapio* was named 
his successor. But between the death of one master and 
the appointment of another, the revolutionary horrors so , 
increased, that her mind was no longer in a state to listen 
to any thing but the bowlings of the tempest. 

^ In her happier days of power, the great Gluck was 
brought, at her request, from Germany to Paris. He 
cost nothing to the public treasury, for her majesty paid 
all his expenses out of her own purse, leaving him the 
profits of his operas, which attracted immense sums to 
the theatre. t 

* The father of Sapio, the tenor singer, who on coming to Eng- 
land was much patronised by the Dutchess of York, and the late 
old Duke of Queensfaerrj. 

t To this very day, the music of Gluck in France, like -the 
works of our immortal Shak;spcare in Eng'land, stands the test of 



110 CHAPTER VII. 

^ Maria Antoinette paid for the musical education of 
the French singer, Garat, and pensioned him for her pri- 
vate concerts. 

* Her majesty was the great patroness of the celebra- 
ted Viotti, who was also attached to her private musical 
parties. Before Viotti began to perform his concertos, 
her majesty, with the most amiable condescension, would 
go round the music saloon, and say, ^' Ladies and gen- 
tlemen, I request you will be silent, and very attentive, 
and not enter into conversation, while Mr. Viotti is play- 
ing, for it interrupts him in the execution of his fine 
performance," 

'Gluck composed his Armida in compliment to the 
personal charms of Maria Antoinette. I never saw her 
majesty more interested about any thing than she was for 
its success. She became a perfect slave to it. She had 
the gracious condescension to hear all the pieces 
through, at Gluck's request, before they were submilr 
ted to the stage for rehearsal. Gluck said he always 
improved his music, after he saw the eifect it had upon 
her majesty. 

^ He was coming out of the queen's apartment one 
day, after he had been performing one of these pieces 
for her majesty's approbation, when I followed and con- 
gratulated him on the increased success he had met with 
from the whole band of the opera at every rehearsal. 
''0 my dear princess!" cried he, "it wants nothing to 
make it be applauded up to the seven skies, but two 
such delightful heads as her majesty's and your own,"-^ 
" Oh, if that be all," answered I, " we'll have them 

time even amid that versatile nation. To outlive French caprice, 
his compositions must possess, like those of the immortal Sacchinij 
something strikingly extraordinary. If they are less frequently 
performed than inferior productions, it is for want of artists equal 
to ihpir merit.. 



CHAPTER VII. Ill 

painted for you, Mr. Gluck!" — "No, no, no! you do 
not understand me," replied Gluck, " I mean real, real 
heads.* My actresses are very ugly, and Armida and 
her confidential lady ought to he very handsome.'' 

^ However great the success of the opera of Armida, 
and certainly it was one of the best productions ever ex- 
hibited on the French stage, no one had a better opinion 
of its composition than Gluck himself. He was quite 
mad about it. He told the queen, that the air of France 
had invigorated his musical genius, and that, after ha- 
ving had the honour of seeing her majesty, his ideas 
were so much inspired, that his compositions resembled 
her, and became alike angelic and sublime! 

' The first artist who undertook the part of Armida 
was Madame Saint Huberti. The queen was very par- 
tial to her. She was principal female singer at the 
French opera, was a German by birth, and strongly re- 
commended by Gluck for her good natural voice. At 
her majesty's request, Gluck himself taught Madame 
Saint Huberti, the part of Armida. Sacchini, also, at 
the command of Maria Antoinette, instructed her in 
the style and sublimity of the Italian school, and Made- 
moiselle Bertin, the queen's dress maker and milliner, 
was ordered to furnish the complete dress for the cha- 
tactefi 

,ii trTlie queen, perhaps, was more liberal to this lady 
Klian to any actress upon the stage. She had frequently 
paid her debts, which were very considerable, for she 
dressed like a queen, whenever she represented one. 

^ Gluck's consciousness of the merit of his own works, 
and of their dignity, excited no small jealousy, during 
the getting up of Armida, in his rival with the public, 

* How little did Gluck think, when he was paying this compli- 
mentj or the princess, when she recorded it, that these two heads 
M-pre really ^o be so cruelly severed from their bodies! 



112 CHAPTER VII. 

the great Vestris, to whom he scarcely left space to ex- 
hibit the graces of his art; and many severe disputes 
took place between the two rival sharers of the Parisian 
enthusiasm. Indeed, it was at one time feared, that the 
success of Armida would be endangered, unless an equal 
share of the performance were conceded to the dancers. 
But Gluck, whose German obstinacy would not give up 
a note, told Vestris he might compose a ballet, in which 
he would leave him his own way entirely; but that an 
artist, whose profession only taught him to reason with 
his heels, should not kick about works like Armida at 
his pleasure, ^' My subject" added Gluck, ^^ is taken 
from the immortal Tasso. My music has been logically 
composed, and with the ideas of my head ; and of course 
there is very little room left for capering. If Tasso 
had thought proper to make Rinaldo a dancer^ he never 
would have designated him a warrior." 

^ Rinaldo was the part Vestris wished to he allotted to 
his son. However, through the interference of the 
queen, Vestris prudently took the part as it had been 
originally finished by Gluck. 

' The queen was a great admirer and patroness of Au- 
gustus VestriS;, the god of dance, as he was styled. Au- 
gustus Vestris never lost her majesty's favour, though he 
very often lost his sense of the respect he owed to the 
public, and showed airs, and refused to dance. Once he 
did so, when her majesty was at the opera. Upon some 
frivolous pretext he refused to appear. He was;» in con- 
sequence, immediately arrested. His father, alarmed at 
his son's temerity, flew to me, and with the most ear- 
nest supplications, implored I would condescend to en- 
deavour to obtain the pardon of her majesty. ^^ My 
son," cried he, *^ did not know, that her majesty 
had honoured the theatre with her presence. Had he 
been aware of it? could he have refused to dance for his 



CHAPTER VII. 113 

most bounteous benefactress? I too am grieved, beyond 
the power of language to describe, by this mal apropos 
contretemps between the two houses of Vestris and Bour- 
bon, as we have always lived in the greatest harmony 
ever since we came from Florence to Paris. My son is 
very sorry, and will dance most bewitchingly, if her ma- 
jesty will graciously condescend to order his release!" 

' I repeated the conversation verbatim to her majesty, 
who enjoyed the arrogance of the Florentine, and sent 
her page to order young Vestris to be set immediately at 
liberty. 

« Having exerted all the wonderful powers of his art, 
the queen applauded him very much. When her ma- 
jesty was about leaving her box, old Vestris appeared at 
the entrance, leading his son to thank the queen. 

^ " Ah, Monsieur Vestris," said the queen to the fa- 
ther, "you never danced as your son has done this 
evening!" 

' " That's very natural, madame," answered old Ves- 
tris, '' I never had a Vestris, please your majesty, for a 
master." 

' '' Then you have the greater merit," replied the 
queen, turning round to old Vestris — " Ah, I shall never 
forget you and Mademoiselle Guimard dancing the mi- 
nuet de la cour." 

^ On this old Vestris held up his head with that pecu- 
liar grace for which he was so much distinguished. — The 
old man, though ridiculously vain, was very much of a 
gentleman in his manners. Tiie father of Vestris was a 
painter of some celebrity at Florence, and originally 
from Tuscany.' 



( 114 



CHAPTER VIIL 

Journal continued. — ^Emperor Joseph comes to France.— Injurioas 
reports of immense sums of money given liim from the treasu- 
ry. — Princess Lamballe presented to him.— Anecdotes told by 
him of his family.— The king annoyed by his freedoms.— •Cir- 
cumstances that occurred while he was seeking information 
among the common people.—Note of the editor on certain mis- 
takes of Madame Campan, 

* The visit of the favourite brother of Maria Antoi- 
nette, the Emperor Joseph the Second, to France, had 
been long and anxiously expected, and was welcomed by 
her with delights The pleasure her majesty discovered 
at having him with her is scarcely credible ; and the af- 
fectionate tenderness with which the emperor frequently 
expressed himself, on seeing his favourite sister, evinced 
that their joys were mutual. 

^ Like every thing else, however, which gratified and 
obliged the queen, her evil star converted even this into 
a misfortune. It was said, that the French treasury^ 
which was not overflowing, was still more reduced by the 
queen's partiality for her brother. She was accused of 
having given him immense suras of moneys which was 
utterly false. 

< The finances of Joseph were at that time in a situa» 
tion too superior to those of France to admit of such 
extravagance, or even to render it desirable. The cir- 
cumstance which gave a colour to the charge was this:— 

« The emperor, in order to facilitate the trade of his 
Brabant subjects, had it in contemplation to open the na- 
vigation of the Scheldte This measure would have been 



CHAPTER VIII. 115 

niinous to many of the skippers, as well as to the inter* 
nal commerce of France. It was considered equally 
dangerous to the trade and navigation of the North Hol- 
landers. To prevent it, negotiations were carried on by 
the French minister, though professedly for the mutual 
interest of both countries, yet entirely at the instigation, 
and on account of the Dutch. The weighty argument 
of the Dutch, to prevent the emperor from accomplish- 
ing a purpose they so much dreaded, was a sum of many 
millions, which passed, by means of some monied specu- 
lation in the exchange, through France to its destination 
at Vienna. It was to see this affair settled, that the 
emperor declared in Vienna his intention of taking 
France in his way from Italy, before he should go back 
to Austria. 

* The certainty of a transmission of money from France 
to Austria, was quite enough to awaken the malevolent, 
who would have taken care, even had they inquired 
iinto the source whence the money came, never to have 
made it public. The opportunity was too favourable 
not to be made the pretext to raise a clamour against the 
qUeen, for robbing France to favour and enrich Austria. 

^ The emperor, who had never seen me, though he 
had often heard me spoken of at the court of Turin, ex- 
pressed a wish, soon after his arrival, that I should be 
presented to him. The immediate cause of this let me 
explain. 

^ I was very much attached to the Princess Clotilda, 
whom I had caused to be united to Prince Charles Eman- 
uel of Piedmont. Our family had, indeed, been princi- 
pally instrumental in the alliances of the two brothers of 
the King of France with the two Piedmontese Princesses, 
as I had been in the marriage of the Piedmontese Prince 
with the Princess of France. When the Emperor Jo- 
seph visited the court of Turin he was requested, when 



116 CHAPTER VIII. 

he saw me in Paris, so signify the King of Sardinia's sa« 
tisfiiction at my good offices. Consequently, the emperor 
lost no time in delivering his message. 

< When I was just entering the queen's apartment to 
he presented, ^^ Here," said her majesty, leading me to 
the emperor, " is the princess," and then, turning to me, 
exclaimed, ^» Mercy, how cold you are!" The emperor 
answered her majesty in German, ^^ What heat can you 
expect from the hand of one, whose heart resides with 
the dead?" and subjoined, in the same language, <^ What 
a pity, that so charming a head should be fixed on a dead 
hody!" 

^ I affected to understand the emperor literally, and 
set him and the queen laughing, by thanking his imperi- 
al majesty for the compliment. 

^ The emperor was exceedingly affable, and full of 
anecdote. Maria Antoinette resembled him in her gen- 
eral manners. The similitude in their easy openness of 
acidress towards persons of merit was very striking. 
Both always endeavoured to encourage persons of every 
elass to speak their minds freely; with this difference, 
that her majesty in so doing never forgot her dignity, gp 
her rank at court. Sometimes however, I have seen her, 
though so perfect in her deportment with inferiors, much 
intimidated and sometimes embarrassed in the presence 
of the princes and princesses her equals, who for the first 
time visited Versailles. Indeed, so much so, as to give 
them a very incorrect idea of her capacity. It was by no 
means an easy matter to cause her majesty to unfold her 
peal sentiments or character on a first acquaintance. 

' I remember the emperor one evening at supper^ 
when he was exceedingly good humoured, talkative, and 
amusing. He had visited all his Italian relations, and 
had a word for each : man, womaji, or child — not a soul 
was spared. The king scarcely ouce opened his meuth,, 



CHAPTER VITI, 117 

except to laugh at some of the emperor's jokes upon his 
Italian relations. 

^ He began by asking the queen if she punished her 
husband, by making him keep as many Lents in the same 
year, as her sister did the King of Naples. The queen 
not knowing what the emperor meant, he explained him- 
self, and said, " When the King of Naples offends his 
queen, she keeps him on short commons and soupe 
maigre, till he has expiated the offence by the penance 
of humbling himself ; and then, and not till then, per- 
mits him to return and share the nuptial rights of hep 
bed." 

' ^^ This sister of mine," said the emperor, ^^ is a pro- 
ficient queen in the art of man training. My other sis- 
ter, the Dutchess of Parma, is equally scientific in break- 
ing-in horses ; for she is constantly in the stables with her 
grooms, by which she grooms a pretty sum yearly in 
buying, selling, and breaking-in; while the simpleton, 
her husband, is ringing the bells with the friars of Color- 
no, to call his good subjects to mass. 

^ " My brother Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany, 
feeds his subjects with plans of economy, a dish that 
costs nothing, and not only saves him a multitude of trou- 
bles, in public buildings and public institutions, but keeps 
the public money in his private coffers ; which is one of 
the greatest and most classical discoveries a sovereign can 
possibly accomplish, and I give Leopold much credit for 
his ingenuity. 

' " My dear brother Ferdinand, Archduke of Milan, 
considering he is only governor of Lombardy, is not 
without industry ; and I am told, when out of the 
glimpse of his dragon, the holy Beatrix, his arch- 
dutchess, sells his corn in the time of war to my enemies, 
as. he does to my friends in the time of peace. So he 
loses nothing by his speculations !" 



118 CHAPTER VIIIo 

* The queen checked the emperor repeatedly, though 
she could not help smiling at his caricatures. 

« " As, to you, my dear Maria Antoinette," continued 
the emperor, not heeding her, " I see you have made 
great progress in the art of painting. You have lavish- 
ed more colour on one cheek than Rubens would have 
required for all the figures in his cartoons." Observing 
one of the ladies of honour still more highly rouged than 
the queen, he said, " I suppose, I look like a death's 
head upon a tomb stone, among all these high coloured 
furies.'^ 

* The queen again tried to interrupt the emperor, but 
he was not to be put out of countenance. 

< He said he had no doubt, when he arrived at Brus- 
sels, that he should hear of the progress of his sister? 
the Archdutehess Maria Christina, in her money negoti- 
ations with the banker Valkeers, who made a good stock 
for her husband's jobs. 

^ " If Maria Christina's gardens and palace at Laken 
could speak," observed he, " what a spectacle of events 
would they not produce ! What a number of fine sights 
my own family would afford ! 

^ " When I get to Cologne," pursued the emperor, 
^* there I shall see my great fat brother Maximilian, in 
his little. electorate, spending his yearly revenue upon an 
ecclesiastical procession; for priests, like opposition, 
never bark but to get into the manger ; never walk 
empty handed ; rosaries and good cheer always wind up 
their holy work ; and my good Maximilian, as head of 
his church, has scarcely feet to waddle into it. Feasting 
and fasting produce the same effect. In wind and food 
he is quite an adept — puffing, from one cause or the 
other, like a smith's bellows!" 

' Indeed, the Elector of Cologne was really grown so 
very fat, that, like his imperial mother, he could scarcely 



CHAPTER Vllir 119 

walk. He would so over-eat himself at these ecclesiasti- 
cal dinners, to make his guests welcome, that, from indi- 
gestion, he would be puffing and blowing an hour after- 
wards for breath ! 

^ ^^ As I have begun the family visits," continued the 
emperor, '' I must not pass by the Arch-dutchess Mari- 
ana and the lady abbess at Clagenfurt ; or, the Lord 
knows, I shall never hear the end of their klagens^ 
The first, I am told, is grown so ugly, and, of course, so 
neglected by mankind, that she is become an utter 
stranger to any attachment, excepting the fleshy em- 
braces of the disgusting wen that encircles her neck and 
bosom, and makes her head appear like a black spot 
upon a large sheet of white paper ! Therefore klagen 
is all I can expect, from that quarter of female flesh, and 
I dare say it will be levelled against the whole race of 
mankind for their want of taste, in not admiring her ex- 
uberance of human craw ! 

^ ^^ As to the lady abbess, she is one of ray best re- 
cruiting Serjeants. She is so fond of training cadets for 
the benefit of the army, that they learn more from her 
system in one month, than at the military academy at 
Neustadt in a whole year. She is her mother's own 
daughter. She understands military tactics thoroughly. 
She and I never quarrel, except when I garrison her 
citadel with invalids. She and the canoness, Mariana, 
would rather see a few young ensigns, than all the staffs 
of the oldest field-marshals!" 

^The queen often made signs to the emperor, to desist 
from thus exposing every member of his family, and 
seemed to feel mortified ; but the more her majesty en- 
deavoured to check his freedom, and make him silent, 
the more he enlarged upon the subject. He did not 

* A German word, which signijfiles complaining. 



120 CHAPTEE VIII. 

even omit Maria Theresa, who, he said, in consequence 
of some papers found on persons arrested as spies from 
the Prussian camp, during the seven years' war, was re- 
ported to have been greatly surprised, to have, discover- 
ed that her husband, the Emperor Francis I. supplied 
the enemy's army with all kinds of provision from her 
stores. 

^ The king scarcely ever answered, excepting when 
the emperor told the queen, that her staircase and an- 
techamber at Versailles resembled more the Turkish 
bazars of Constantinople,* than a royal palace. " But,'' 
added he, laughing, " I suppose you would not allow the 
nuisance of hawkers and pedlars almost under your nose^ 
if the sweet perfumes of a handsome present did not 
compensate for the disagreeable effluvia exhaling from 
their filthy traffic." 

^ On this, Louis XVI. in a tone of voiee somewhat 
frying from his usual mildness, assured the emperor,, 
/that neither himself nor the queen derived any advantage 
from the custom, beyond the convenience of purchasing 
articles inside the palace, at the moment they were wanted^ 
without being forced to send for them elsewhere. 

^ ^' That is the very reason, my dear brother," replied 
Joseph, ^^why I would not allow these shops to be where 
they are. The temptation to lavish money to little pur- 
pose is too strong ; and women have not philosophy 
enough to resist having things they like, when they can 
be obtained easily, though they may not be wanted." 

' "Custom," answered the king — 

^ " True," exclaimed the queen, interrupting him | 
^^ custom, my dear brother, obliges us to tolerate in 

* It was an old custom in the passages and staircase of all the 
royal palaces, for tradespeople to sell their merchandise for the 
accommodation of the cotnt, 



CHAPTER VIII. 121 

France, many things which you, in Austria, have long 
since abolished ; but the French are not to be treated like 
the Germans. A Frenchman is a slave to habit. His 
very caprice, in the change of fashion, proceeds more 
from habit than genius or invention. His very restless- 
ness of character is systematic ; and old customs and na- 
tional habits, in a nation virtually spirituelle, must not 
be trifled with. The tree torn up by the roots dies for 
want of nourishment ; but, on the contrary, when lopped 
carefully only of its banches, the pruning makes it more 
valuable to the cultivator, and more pleasing to the be- 
holder. So it is with national prejudices, which are of" 
ten but the excrescenses of national virtues. Root them 
out, and you root out virtue and all. They must only 
be pruned and turned to profit. A Frenchman is more 
easily killed than subdued. Even his follies generally 
spring from a high sense of national dignity and honour^ 
which foreigners cannot but respect." * 

^ The Emperor Joseph, while in France, mixed in all 
sorts of society, to gain information with respect to the 
popular feeling towards his sister, and instruction as to 
the manners and modes of life and thinking of the French. 
To this end, he would often associate with the lowest of 
the common people, and generally gave them a louis for 
their loss of time in attending to him. 

^ One day, when he was walking with the young prin- 
cess Elizabeth and myself, in the public gardens at Ver- 
sailles, and in deep conversation with us, two or three of 
these louis ladies came up to my side, and not knowing 
who I was, whispered, — " There's no use in paying such 

* Little did she think then, that the nation she was eulogizing^ 
and so proud of governing, would one day cause her to repent 
her partiality, by barbarously dragging her to an ignominious trialj, 
and cruel death. . 

Q 



122 CHAPTER VIII. 

attention to the stranger. After all, when he has got 
what he wants, he'll only give you a louis a-piece, and 
then send you about your business.'^ ' 

Note. 

Thus far extend the anecdotes which the Princess 
Lamballe has recorded of the Emperor Joseph; but I 
cannot dismiss this part of the subject without noticing 
some mistakes, which Madame Campan has admitted into 
her account of his imperial majesty and his visit. 

Maria Antoinette, and not the Queen of Naples, was 
the emperor's favouriteo The Queen of Naples was the 
favourite of Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany, who suc- 
ceeded the Emperor Joseph in a brief reign. This as- 
sertion is substantiated by the Queen of Naples herself, 
who could never persuade Joseph the Second to allow 
the two marriages to take place between her two daughters 
and the present emperor, and his brother Ferdinand, the 
late Duke of Tuscany. On the contrary, he married the 
present emperor, then king of the Romans, when very 
young, to his first wife, the Princess of Wirtemberg, 
sister to the Empress Dowager of Russia^ to stop the 
continued importunities of his sister the Queen of Na- 
ples, on that subject; but this princess dying at Vienna 
only a few days previous to the death of the Emperor 
Joseph the Second, and Leopold succeeding, the mar- 
riages between Francis and Ferdinand and the daugh- 
ters of the Queen of Naples took place soon after 
Leopold assumed the imperial diadem, when Carolina 
and Ferdinand, her husband, the late King of Naples^ 
accompanied both their daughters to their respective 
husbands. 

Though Joseph the Second freely acknowledged his 
sister Carolina's capacity for governing Naples^ he was 



CHAPTER VIIIo 123 

very much displeased at her instigating Pope Pius VI. 
to come to Vienna, to remonstrate with him on the sup- 
pression of some of his religious houses. He avoided 
coming to any explanation with the holy father on this, 
or any other subject, by never seeing him but in public; 
and though the pope resided for some months at Vienna, 
and travelled to that city from the ancient Christian ca- 
pital of the world, for no other purpose, yet his holiness 
was unable to get a sight of the emperor, except at pub- 
lic levee days, and was obliged to return back to Rome 
with the mortification of having humiliated himself by 
an utterly fruitless journey. 

When Joseph the Second had been informed, that 
the Queen of Naples had expressed herself hostile to his 
innovations, he told her ambassador, '^ Ttitti son padroni 
a casa suaJ^ 

From these circumstances I think it seems pretty 
evident, that Madame Campan has been led into an 
error when she says, that Joseph the Second and the 
Queen of Naples idolised each other. The very re- 
verse is the fact, but it was their mutual interest to 
keep up political appearances from the two extreme situ- 
ations they held in Italy. 

It was Joseph the second, on his leaving Italy, and 
coming to Paris, who interested himself with his favour- 
ite sister, the Queen of France, to cause the king, her 
husband, to settle the differences then subsisting between 
the court of Naples and that of Spain ; and it was his 
opinion which some time afterwards influenced the 
Queen of France to refuse the offer of the Queen of 
Naples, to affiance her daughter, the present Dutchess 
D'Angouleme, to the crown prince, son of the Queen of 
Naples ; and to propose, as more eligible, a marriage, 
which, since the revolution, has taken place between the 
house of Orleans and that of Naples. 



J 24 CHAPTER. VIII. 

I know not, whether the individuals since united are 
the same who were then proposed ; but the union of the 
houses was certainly suggested by Maria Antoinette^ 
with the consent of the Duke and Dutchess of Orleans, 
with whom, or rather with the last of whom, the Queen 
of France was then upon terms of intimacy. 



{ 125 ) 



CHAPTER IX. 

Journal continued. — Pleasure of hearing of the birth of children, 
—The queen's exultation at finding herself pregnant. — Favour- 
able change in the public sentiment. — The king's aunts annoyed 
at the queen's prosperity. — Her pregnancy ascribed by Du 
Barry to D'Artois. — ^Lamballe interferes to prevent a private 
meeting between the queen and Baron Besenval.' — Coolness in 
consequence.— The interview granted, and the result as feared, 
—The queen sensible of her error. — The Polignacs. — Night 
promenades on the Terrace at Versailles and at Trianon.— 
Queen's remark on hearing of Du Barry's intrigue against 
her.— Princess Lamballe declines going to the evening prome- 
nades.— -Vermond strengthens Maria Antoinette's hatred of 
etiquette. — Her goodness of heart.— Droll anecdote of the Che- 
valier d*Eon. 

^ I REMEMBER an old lady, who could not bear to be 
told of deaths. " Pshaw ! Pshaw !" she would exclaim, 
^^ Bring me no tales of funerals ! Talk of births, and of 
those who are likely to be blest with them ! These are 
the joys which gladden old hearts, and fill youthful ones 
with extasy ! It is our own reproduction in children, 
which makes us quit the world happy and contented ; 
because then we only retire to make room for another 
race, bringing with them all those faculties, which are 
in us decayed ; and capable, which we ourselves have 
ceased to be, of taking our parts and figuring on the 
stage of life, so long as it may please the Supreme Mana- 
ger to busy them in earthly scenes! — Then talk no 
more to rae of weeds and mourning, but sliow me christ- 
enings, and all those who give employ to the baptismal 
font!" 



126 CHAPTER IX. 

^ Such also was the exulting feeling of Maria Antoi- 
nette when she no longer doubted of her wished-for 
pregnancy. The idea of becoming a mother filled her 
soul with an exuberant delight, which made the very 
pavement on which she trod vibrate with the words *^ I 
shall be a mother! I shall be a mother!" She was so 
overjoyedj that she not only made it public throughout 
France, but despatches were sent oif to all her royal re- 
latives. And was not her rapture natural? so long as 
she had waited for the result of every youthful union, 
and so coarsely as she had been reproached with her 
misfortune! Now came her triumph. She could now 
prove to the world, like all the descendants of the house 
of Austria, that there was no defect with her. The sa- 
tirists and the malevolent were silenced. Louis XVIo 
from the cold insensible bridegroom, became the infatu- 
ated admirer of his long neglected wife. The enthusi- 
asm with which the event was hailed by all France 
atoned for the partial insults she had received before it. 
The splendid fetes, balls, and entertainments, indiscrimi- 
nately lavished by all ranks throughout the kingdom on 
this occasion, augmented those of the queen and the 
court to a pitch of magnificence, surpassing the most 
luxurious and voluptuous times of the great and brilliant 
Louis XIV. Entertainments were given even to the do- 
mestics of every description belonging to the royal esta- 
blishments. Indeed, so general was the joy, that, among 
those who could do no more, there could scarcely be 
found a father or mother in France, who, before they 
took their wine, did not first offer up a prayer for the 
prosperous pregnancy of their beloved queen. 

'And yet, though the situation of Maria Antoinette 
was now become the theme of a whole nation's exulta- 
tion, she herselfj, the owner of the precious burthen, se- 



CHAPTER IX. 127 

lected by Heaven as its special depositary, was the only 
one censured for expressing all her happiness! 

^ Those models of decorum, the virtuous princesses^ 
her aunts, deemed it highly indelicate in her majesty, to 
have given public marks of her satisfaction to those de- 
puted to compliment her on her prosperous situation. 
To avow the joy she felt was in their eyes indecent and 
unqueenly. Where was the shrinking bashfulness of 
that one of these princesses, who had herself been so 
clamorous to Louis XV. against her husband, the Duke 
of Modena, for not having consummated her own mar- 
riage? 

' The party of the dismissed favourite Du Barry were 
still working under ground. Their pestiferous vapours 
issued from the recesses of the earth, to obscure the 
brightness of the rising sun, which was now rapidly tow- 
ering to its climax, to obliterate the little planets which 
had once endeavoured to eclipse its beautiful rays, but 
were now incapable of competition, and unable to endure 
its lustre. This malignant nest of serpents began to poi- 
son the minds of the courtiers, as soon as the pregnancy 
was obvious, by inuendos on the partiality of the Count 
D'Artois for the queen ; and at length, infamously, and 
openly, dared to point him out as the cause ! 

^ Thus, in the heart of the court itself, originated this 
most atrocious slander, long before it reached the nation, 
and so much assisted to destroy her majesty's popularity 
with a people, who now adored her amiableness> her gen- 
eral kind-heartedness, and her unbounded charity. 

' I have repeatedly seen the queen and the Count 
d'Artois together under circumstances, in which there 
could have been no concealment of her real feelings; and 
I can firmly and boldly assert the falsehood of this alle- 
gation against my royal mistress. The only attentions 
Maria Antoinette received in the earlier part of her re> 



128 CHAPTER IX, 

sidence in France were from her grandfather, and her 
brothers-in-law. Of these, the Count D'Artois was the 
only one, who, from youth and liveliness of character, 
thoroughly sympathised with his sister. But, beyond 
the little freedoms of two young and innocent playmates, 
nothing can be charged upon their intimacy 5 no fami- 
liarity whatever farther than was warranted by their re- 
lationship. I can bear witness, that her majesty's at- 
tachment for the Count D'Artois never differed in its 
nature from what she felt for her brother the Emperor 
Joseph.* 

* It is very likely, that the slander of which I speak 
derived some colour of probability afterwards, with the 
million, from the queen's thoughtlessness, relative to the 
challenge which passed between the Count D'Artois and 
the Duke de Bourbon, In right of my station, I was 
one of her majesty's confidential counsellors, and it be- 
came my duty to put restraint upon her inclinations, 
whenever I conceived they led her wrong. In this in- 
stance, I exercised my prerogative decidedly, and even 
so much so, as to create displeasure ; but I anticipated 
the consequences, which actually ensued, and preferred 
to risk my royal mistress' displeasure rather than her 
reputation. The dispute, which led to the duel, was on 
some point of etiquette ; and the Baron de Besenval was 



* When the king thought proper to be reconciled to the queen 
after the death of his grandfather Louis XV. and that she became 
a mother, she really was very much attached to Louis XVI. as 
may be proved from her never quitting him, and suffering all the 
horrid sacrifices she endured, through the whole period of the re- 
volution, rather than leave her husband, her children, or her sis» 
tcr, Maria Antoinette might have saved her life twenty times, 
had not the king's safety, united with her own and that of her 
family, impelled her to reject every proposition of self-preserva- 
tion. 



CHAPTER IX, 12^ 

To attend as second to one of the parties. From the 
queen's attachment for her royal brother, slie wishedi the 
affair to be amicably arranged, without the knowledge 
either of the king, who was ignorant of what had taken. 
place, or of the parties ; which could only be effected 
by her seeing the baron in the most private manner. I 
opposed her majesty's allowing any interview with the 
baron upon any terms, unless sanctioned by the king. 
This unexpected and peremptory refusal obliged the 
queen to transfer her confidence to the librarian, who in- 
troduced the baron into one of the private apartments of 
her majesty's women, communicating with that of the 
queen, where her majesty could see the baron without 
the exposure of passing any of the other attendants. 
The baron was quite gray, and upwards of sixty years 
of age! But the self-conceited dotard soon caused the 
queen to repent her misplaced confidence, and from his 
unwarrantable impudence on that occasion, when he 
found himself alone with the queen, her majesty, though 
he was a constant member of the societies, of the Poli^' 
nacs, ever after treated him with sovereign contempt. 

^The queen herself afterwards described to me the 
baron's presumptuous attack upon her credulity. From 
this circumstance I thence forward totally excluded him 
from ray parties^ where her majesty was always a regu- 
lar visiter. 

^ The coolness, to which my determination not tc al- 
low the interview gave rise between her majesty and 
myself, was but momentary. The queen had coo much 
discernment, not to appreciate the baws upon which my 
denial was grounded, even before she was convinced by 
the result, how correct had been my reflections. She 
felt her error, and, by the mediation of the Duke of 
Dorset, we were re-anited more closely than ever, and 
^0; I trust; we shall remain till death I 



130 CHAPTER IX « 

' There was much more attempted to be made of ano- 
ther instance, in which I exercised the duty of my officcj 
than the truth justified — the nightly promenades on the 
terrace at Versailles, or at Trianon. Though no amuse- 
ment could have been more harmless or innocent for a 
private individual, yet I certainly disapproved of it for 
a queen, and therefore withheld the sanction of my at- 
tendance. My sole objection was on the score of digni- 
ty. I well knew, that Du Barry and her infamous party 
were constant spies upon the queen on every occasion of 
such a nature ; and that they would not fail to exagge- 
rate her every movement to her prejudice. Though Du 
Barry could not form one of the party, which was a 
great source of heart-burning, it Was easy for her, under 
the circumstances, to mingle with the throng. When I 
suggested these objections to the queen, her majestys 
feeling no inward cause of reproach, and being sanction- 
ed in what she did by the king himself, laughed at the 
idea of these little excursions affording food for scandaL 
i assured her majesty, that I had every reason to be con- 
vinced, that Du Barry was often in disguise, not far from 
the seat where her majesty and the Princess Elizabeth"^ 
could be overheard in their most secret conversations 
with each other. ^* Listeners," replied the queen, '' ne- 
ver hear any good of themselves." 

' " My dear Lamballe," she continued, ^' you have 
take« such a dislike to this woman, that you cannot con- 
ceive ^ae ^an be occupied but in mischief. This is un- 
charitable. She certainly has no reason to be dissatisfied 
with either the king or myself. We have both left her 
in the full enjoyment of all she possessed, except the 
light of appearing at court, or continuing in the society 
her conduct had too long disgraced." 

^ I said it was very true, but that I should be hapr- 
pier to find her majesty so serupuleus, as never to 



CHAPTER IX, 131 

give an opportunity even for the falsehoods of her ene- 
mies. 

^Her majesty turned the matter off, as usual, by say- 
ing, she had no idea of injuring others, and could not 
believe that any one would wantonly injure her; adding, 
*' The dutchess and the Princess Elizabeth, my two sis- 
ters, and all the other ladies, are coming to hear the con- 
cert this evening; and you will be delighted." 

^ I excused myself under the plea of the night air dis- 
agreeing with my health, and returned to Versailles 
without ever making myself one of the nocturnal mem- 
bers of her majesty's society, well knowing she could dis- 
pense with my presence, there being more than enough 
ever ready to hurry her by their own imprudence into 
the folly of despising criticisms, which I always endea- 
voured to avoid, though I did not fear them. Of these 
I cannot but consider her secretary as one. The follow- 
ing circumstance connected with the promenades is a 
proof. 

' The Abbe Vermond was present one day when Ma- 
ria Antoinette observed, that she felt rather indisposed. 
I attributed it to her majesty's having lightened her 
dress, and exposed herself too much to the night air. 
^< Heavens, madame!'' cried the abbe, ^"^ would you al- 
ways have her majesty cased up in steel armour, and not 
take the fresh air without being surrounded by a troop 
of horse and foot, as a field-marshal is when going to 
storm a fortress? Pray, princess, now that her majesty 
has freed herself from the annoying shackles of Madame 
Etiquette (the Countess de Noailles,) let her enjoy the 
pleasure of a simple robe, and breathe freely the fresh 
morning dew, as has been her custom all her life (and a| 
her mother before her the Empress Maria Theresa has 
done and continues to do, even to this day,) unfettered 
by antiquated absurdities ! Let me be any thing rather 



132 CHAPTER TX. 

than a Queen of France, if I must be doomed to the 
slavery of such tyrannical rules!" 

^ " True ; but sir," replied I, " you should reflect^ 
that if you were a Queen of France, France, in making 
you mistress of her destinies, and placing you at the 
head of her nation, would, in return, look for respect 
from you to her customs and manners. I am born an 
Italian, but I renounced all national peculiarities of 
thinking and acting the moment I set my foot an French 
ground.*' 

^ " And so did I,'' said Maria Antoinette. 

•^ " I know you did, madam,'' I answered; " but I am 
replying to your preceptor ; and I only wish he saw 
things in the same light I do. JVhen we are at Rome^ 
we should do as Rome does. You have never had a 
regicide Bertrand de Gurdon, a Ravillae, or a Damiens 
in Germany ; but they have been common in France, and 
the sovereigns of France cannot be too circumspect in 
their maintenance of ancient etiquette, to command the 
dignified respect of a frivolous and versatile people." 

^ The queen, though she did not strictly adhere to my 
counsels or the abbe's advice, had too much good sense 
to allow herself to be prejudiced against me by her pre- 
ce]ptor; but the abbe never entered on the propriety oP 
impir)priety of the queen's conduct before me, and, from 
the moment I have mentioned, studiously avoided, in my 
presence, any thing which could lead to discussion oa 
the change of dress and amusements introduced by her 
majesty. 

^ Although I disapproved of her majesty's deviations 
from established forms in this, or, indeed, any respect, 
yet I never, before or after, expressed my opinion before 
a third person. 

^ Never should I have been so firmly and sq long at- 
tached to Mapia Antoinette; had I not kB(J\?n, that her 



CHAPTER IX. 133 

native, thorough goodness of heart, had been warped 
and misguided, though acting at the same time with the 
best intentions, by a false notion of her real innocence 
being a suflicieut shield against the public censure of 
such innovations upon national prejudices, as she thought 
proper to introduce ; the fatal error of conscious rectitude, 
encouraged in its regardlessness of appearances by those 
very persons, who well knew, that it is only by appear- 
?inees a nation can judge of its rulers. 

^I remember a ludicrous circumstance arising from 
the queen's innocent curiosity, in which, if there were 
any thing to blame, I myself am to be censured for lend- 
ing myself to it so heartily, to satisfy her majesty. 

^ When the Chevalier D'Eon was allowed to return to 
France, her majesty expressed a particular inclination to 
see this extraordinary character. From prudential, as 
well as political motives, she was at first easily pursuaded 
to repress her desire. However, by a most ludicrous 
occurrence, it was revived, and nothing would do but 
she must have a sight of the being who had for some 
time been the talk of every society, and, at the period to 
which I allude, was become the mirth of all Paris. 

^ The chevalier being one day in a very large party of 
both sexes, in which, though his appearance had more of 
the old soldiei? in it than of the character he was com- 
pelled malgre hii* to adopt, many of the guests having 
no idea to what sex this nondescript animal really be- 
longed, the conversation after dinner happened to turn 
on the manly exercise of fencing. Heated by a subject 



* It may be necessary to observe here, that the chevalier ha- 
ving, from some particular motives, beea banished from France, 
was afterward permitted to return only on condition of never ap- 
pearing but in the disguised dress of a female, though he was 
alwavs habited in the male costume underneath it. 



134 CHAPTER IX. 

to him so interesting, the chevalier^ forgetful of the re- 
spect due to his assumed garb, started from his seat? 
and, pulling up his petticoats, threw himself on guard. 
Though dressed in male attire underneath, this sudden 
freak sent all the ladies and many of the gentlemen out 
of the room in double quick time. The chevalier, how- 
ever, instantly recovering from the first impulse, quietly 
put down his upper garment, and begged pardon, in a 
gentlemanly manner, for having, for a moment, deviated 
from the forms of his imposed situation. All the gossips 
of Paris were presently amused with the story, which, 
of course, reached the court, with every droll particular 
of the pulling up and clapping down the cumbrous para- 
phernalia of a hoop petticoat. 

^ The king and queen, from the manner in which they 
enjoyed the tale when told them (and certainly it lost no- 
thing in the report,) would not have been the least amu- 
sed of the party had they been present. His majesty 
shook the room with laughing, and the queen, the 
Princess Elizabeth, and the other ladies were convulsed 
at the description. 

'^ When we were alone, ^^ How I should like," said 
the queen, ^^ to see this curious man woman V^--^* In- 
deed," replied I, <^<^ I have not less curiosity than your- 
self, and I think we may contrive to let your majesty 
have a peep at him — her, I mean ! — without compromi- 
sing your dignity, or offending the minister, who inter- 
dicted the chevalier from appearing in your presence, I 
know he has expressed the greatest mortification, and 
that his wish to see your majesty is almost irrepressi- 
ble." 

* <^' But how will you be able to contrive this, without 
its being known to the king, or to the Count de Vergen- 
nes, who would never forgive me?" exclaimed her ma- 
jesty. 



CHAPTER IX, 135 

6 u Why, on Sunday, when you go to chapel, I will 
cause him, by some means or other, to make his appear- 
ance, en grand costume, among the group of ladies, who 
are generally waiting there to be presented to your ma- 
jesty." 

^ ^^ Oh, you charming creature !'' said the queen. 
^' But won't the minister banish or exile him, for it ?" 

^ ^* No, no I He has only been forbidden an audience 
of your majesty at court," I replied. 

' In good earnest, on the Sunday following, the cheva- 
lier was dressed, en costume, with a large hoop, very 
long train, sack, five rows of ruffles, an immensely high 
powdered female wig, very beautiful lappets, white 
gloves, an elegant fan in his hand, his beard closely 
shaved, his neck and ears adorned with diamond rings 
and necklaces, and assuming all the airs and graces of a 
fine lady ! 

^ But, unluckily his anxiety was so great, the moment 
the queen made her appearance, to get a sight of her 
majesty, that, on rushing before the other ladies, his wig 
and head-dress fell off his head ; and before they could 
be well replaced, he made so ridiculous a figure, by clap- 
ping them, in his confusion, hind part before, that the 
king, the queen, and the whole suite, could scarcely re- 
frain from laughing aloud in the church. 

'^ Thus ended the long longed for sight of this famous 
man woman ! 

<^ As to me, it was a great while before I could recover 
myself. Even now, I laugh whenever I think of this 
great lady deprived of her head ornaments, with her bald 
pate laid bare, to the derision of such a multitude of Pa- 
risians, always prompt to divert themselves at the ex- 
pense of others. However, the affair passed off unheed- 
ed, and no one but the queen and myself ever knew, 
that we ourselves had been innocently the cause of this 



13G CHAPTER IS. 

comical adventure. When we met after mass, we were 
so overpowered, that neither of lis could speak for laugh= 
ing. The bishop, who officiated, said it was lucky he 
had no sermon to preach that day, for it would have been 
difficult for him to have recollected himself, or to have 
maintained his gravity. The ridiculous appearance of 
the chevalier, he added, was so coHtinually presenting 
itself before him during the service, that it was as much 
as he could do to restrain himself from laughing, by 
keeping his eyes constantly ri vetted on the book. In- 
deed, the oddity of the affair was greatly heightened, 
when, in the middle of the mass, some charitable hand 
having adjusted the wig of the chevalier, he re-entered 
the chapel as if nothing had happened, and placing him- 
self exactly opposite the altar, with his train upon his 
arm, stood fanning himself a la coquette with an inflexi- 
ble self-possession, which only rendered it the more diffi- 
cult for those around him to maintain their composure. 

' Thus ended the queen's curiosity. The result only 
made the chevalier's company in greater request, for 
every one became more anxious than ever to know the 
masculine lady who had lost her wig V 



( 137 



CHAPTER X. 

Observations of the Editor. — Journal continued. '~'&\xW\ of the 
Dutchess d'Angouleme. — Maria Antoinette delivered of a dau- 
phin. — Increasing influence of the Dutchess de Polignac. — The 
Abbe Vermond heads an intrigue against it. — Polignac made 
governess of the i"oyal children. — Her splendour and increasing- 
unpopularity. — Envy and resentment of the nobility. — Birth of 
the Duke of Normandy. — The Queen accomplishes the marriage 
of the Dutchess de Polignac's daughter with the Duke de 
Guiche. — Cabals of the court. — Maria Antoinette's partiality 
for the English. — Libels on the queen. — Private commissions to 
suppress them. — Motives of the Duke de Lauzun for joining the 
calumniatoi-s. — Droll conversation between Maria AntoinettCj 
Lady Spencer, the Duke of Dorset, &c., at Versailles. — Inter- 
esting visit of the Grand Duke of the North (afterwards the 
Emperor Paul) and his Dutchess. — Maria Antoinette's disgust 
at the King of Sweden. — Audacity of the Cardinal de Rohan. 

From the time that the Princess Lamballe saw the ties 
between the queen and her favourite Polignac, drawing 
closer, she became less assiduous in her attendance at 
court, being reluctant to importune the friends by her 
presence at an intimacy, which she did not approve. 
She could not, however, withhold her accustomed atten- 
tions, as the period of her majesty's accouchement ap- 
proached ; and she has thus noted the circumstance of 
the birth of the Dutchess D'Angouleme, on the 19th of 
December, 1778. 

^ The moment for the accomplishment of the queen's 
darling hope was now at hand : she was about to become 
a mother. 

^ It had been agreed between her majesty and myself, 
that I was to place myself so near the accoucheur, Ver- 

S 



138 CHAPTER X« 

mond,* as to be the first to distinguish the sex of the 
new born infant, and, if she should be delivered of a 
dauphin to say, in Italian, il Jiglio e nato. 

^ Her majesty was, however, foiled even in this the 
most blissful of her desires. She was delivered of a 
daughter, instead of a dauphin. 

^ From the immense crowd that burst into the apart- 
ment the instant Vermond said, the queen is happily de- 
livered, her majesty was nearly suffocated. I had hold 
of her hand, and as I said, la i^egina e andato, mista- 
king andato for nato, between the joy of giving birth to 
a son and the pressure of the crowd, her majesty fainted. 
Overcome by the dangerous situation in which I saw my 
royal mistress, I myself was carried out of the room in a 
lifeless state. The situation of her majesty was for some 
time very doubtful, till the people were dragged with 
violence from about her, that she might have ain On 
her recovering, the king was the first person who told 
her, that she was the mother of a very fine princess. 

^ " Well then," said the queen, ^^ I am like my mo- 
ther, for at my birth she also wished for a son instead of 
a daughter; and you have lost your wager :'^ for the 
king had betted with Maria Theresa, that it would be 
a son. 

^ The king answered her by repeating the lines Me- 
tastasio had written on that occasion ; 

lo perdei; Paugusta figlia 

A pagar, m'a condemnatoj 
Ma s'e ver che a voi somiglia 

Tutto il mondo ha guadagnato.' 

* Brother to the Abbe, 'whose pride was so great at this honour 
conferred on his relative^ that he never spoke of him without de- 

itommating' Mm •M???^ J£?ir mon.frere^ ^acmtdtev de sa Ma^est^, 
Wermmid, 



CIMPTER X, 1 >. 

The Princess Laniballe again, ceased to be constantly 
about the queen. Her danger was over, she was a mo- 
ther, and the attentions of disinterested friendship were 
no longer indispensable. She, herself, about this time, 
met with a deep affliction. She lost both of her own pa- 
rents ; and to her sorrows may, in a great degree, be as- 
cribed her silence upon the events which intervened be- 
tween the birth of Madame and that of the dauphin. 
She was as assiduous as ever in her attentions to her ma- 
jesty on her second lying-in. The circumstances of the 
death of Maria Theresa, the queen's mother, , in the in- 
terval which divided the two accouchements, and her 
majesty's anguish, and refusal to see any but Lamballe 
and Polignac, are too well known to detain us longer 
from the notes of the princess. It is enough for the 
reader to know, that the friendship of her majesty for 
her superintendent seemed to be gradually reviving in 
all its early enthusiasm, by her unremitting kindness 
during the confinements of the queen ; till, at length, 
they became more attached than ever. But not to anti- 
cipate, let me return to the narrative, 

^ The public feeling had undergone a great change 
with respect to her majesty from the time of her first 
accouchement. Still, she was not the mother of a future 
king. The people looked upon her as belonging to them 
more than she had done before, and faction was silenced 
by the general delight. But she had not yet attained 
the climax of her felicity. A second pregnancy gave a 
a new excitement to the nation ; and, at length, on the 
22d October, 1781, dawned the day of hope. 

^In consequence of what happened on the first ac- 
couchement, measures were taken to prevent similar dis- 
asters on the second. The number admitted into the 
apartment was circumscribed. The silence observed left 
the queen in uncertainty of the sex to which she had gi- 



140 CHAPTER X. 

veil birth, til!, with tears of joy, the king said to her— 
i' Madame, the hopes of the nation, and mine, are ful- 
iilled. You are the mother of a dauphin." 

^ The Princess Elizabeth and myself were so overjoy- 
ed, that we embraced every one in the room. 

< At this time their majesties were adored. Maria 
Antoinette, with all her beauty and amiableness, was a 
mere cipher in the eyes of France previous to her be- 
coming the mother of an heir to the crown; but her 
popularity now arose to a pitch of unequalled enthu- 
siasmo 

' I have heard of but one expression to her majesty 
upon this occasion in any way savouring of discontent. 
This came from the royal aunts. On Maria Antoinette's 
expressing to them her joy, in having brought a dauphin 
to the nation, they replied, " We will only repeat our 
father's observation on a similar subject. When one of 
our sisters complained to his late majesty, that, as her 
Italian husband had copied the dauphin's whim, she 
could not, though long a bride, boast of being a wdfe, or 
hope to become a mother'" — "a prudent princess," re- 
plied Louis XV. " never wants heirs !" But the feeling 
of the royal aunts was an exception to the general senti- 
ment, which really seemed like madness. 

*I remember a proof of this, which happened at the 
time. Chancing to cross the king's path, as he was go- 
ing to Marly and I coming from Rambouillet, my two 
postillions jumped from their horses, threw themselves 
on the high road upon their knees, though it was very 
dirty, and remained their offering up their benedictions^ 
till he was out of sight. ''^ 



* These very men, perhaps, but a short time after, were among 
the regicides who caused him to be butchered on the scaffold!'— 
"What a lesson for princes! 



CHAPTER X. 141 

* The felicity of the queen was too great not to he 
soon overcast. The unbounded influence of the Polig- 
nacs was now at its zenith. It could not fail of being 
attacked. Every engine of malice, envy, and detrac- 
tion, was let loose ; and in the vilest calumnies against 
the character of the dutchess, her royal mistress was in- 
cluded. 

' It was, in truth, a most singular fatality in the life 
of Maria Antoinette, that she could do nothing, however 
beneficial or disinterested, for which she was not either 
criticised or censured. She had a tenacity of character, 
which made her cling more closely to attachments, from 
which she saw others desirous of estranging her; and 
this firmness, however excellent in principle, was, in her 
case, fatal in its efiects. The Abbe Vermond, her ma- 
jesty's confessor and tutor, and unfortunately, in many 
respects, her ambitious guide, was really alarmed at tlie 
rising favour of the dutchess; and though he knew the 
very obstacles thrown in her way only strengthened her 
resolution as to any favourite object, yet he ventured to 
head an intrigue to destroy the great influence of the 
Polignacs, which, as he might have foreseen, only served 
to hasten their aggrandisement. 

' At this crisis, the dissipation of the Duke de Gue- 
menee caused him to become a bankrupt. — I know not 
whether it can be said in principle, but certainly it may 
in property, " It is an ill wind that blows no one any 
good." The princess, his wife, having been obliged to 
leave her residence at Versailles, in consequence of the 
duke's dismissal from the king's service on accouBt of tiie 
disordered state of his pecuniary circumstances, the situ- 
ation of governess to the royal children became necessa- 
rily vacant, and was immediately transferred to the 
Ductchess de Polignac. The queen, to enable her friend 
to support her station with all the eclat suitable to its 



142 CHAPTER X. , 

dignity; took care to supply ample means from her own 
private purse. A most magnificent suite of apartments 
was ordered to be arranged under the immediate in- 
spection of the queen's maitre d'hotel, at her majesty's 
expense. 

' Is there any thing on earth more natural, than the 
lively interest, which inspires a mother towards those 
who have the care of her oifspring? What then must 
have been the feelings of a queen of France, who had 
been deprived of that blessing for which connubial at- 
tachments are formed, and which vice versa, constitutes 
the only real happiness of every young female ; — what 
must have been, I say the ecstacy of Maria Antoinette, 
vv'hen she not only found herself a mother, but the dear 
pledges of all her future bliss in the hands of one, whose 
friendship allowed her the unrestrained exercise of ma- 
ternal affection : a climax of felicity combining not only 
the pleasures of an ordinary mother, but the greatness, 
the dignity, and the flattering popularity of a queen, of 
France. 

' Though the pension of the Dutchess de Folignac was 
no more than that usually allotted to all former govern- 
esses of the royal children of France, yet circumstances 
tempted her to a display, not a little injurious to her po- 
pularity, as well as to that of her royal mistress. She 
gave too many pretexts to imputations of extravagance. 
Yet she had neither patronage, nor sinecures, nor immu- 
nities beyond the few inseparable from the office she 
held, and which had been the same for centuries un- 
der the monarchy of France. But it must be remember- 
ed, as an excuse for the splendour of her establishment, 
that she entered her office upon a footing very different 
from that of any of her predecessors. Her mansion was 
not the quiet, retired simple household of the governess 
of the royal children, 2s formerly; it had become the 



CHAPTER X. 143 

magnificent resort of the first queen in Europe; the dai- 
ly haunt of her majesty. The queen certainly visited 
the former governess, as she had done the Dutchess de 
Duras, and many other frequenters of her court parties ; 
but she made the Dutchess de Polignac's her court ; and 
all the courtiers of that court, and, I may say, the great 
personages of all France, as well as the ministers, and all 
foreigners of distinction, held there, their usual rendez- 
vouse ; consequently, there was nothing wanting but the 
guards in attendance in the queen's apartments, to have 
made it a royal residence, suitable for the reception of 
the illustrious personages, that were in the constant habit 
of visiting these levees, assemblies, balls, routs, pecnics, 
dinner, supper, and card parties.* 

• Much as some of the higher classes of the nobility 

* I have seen ladies at the Princess Lamballe's come from 
these card parties, with their laps so blackened by the quantities 
of gold received in them, that they have been obliged to change 
their dresses to go to supper. Many a chevalier dHndustrie and 
young military spendthrift, has made his harvest here. Thou- 
sands were won and lost, and the ladies were generally the dupes 
of all those who were the constant speculative attendants. 

The Princess Lamballe did not like play, but when it was ne- 
cessary she did play, and won or lost to a limited extent ; but the 
prescribed sum once exhausted or gained, she left off. In set 
parties, such as those of whist, she never played, except when one 
was wanted, often excusing herself on the score of its requiring 
more attention than it was in her power to give to it, and her re- 
luctance to sacrifice her partner ; though I have heard Beau 
Dillon, the Duke of Dorset, Lord Edward Dillon, and many 
others say, that she understood and played the game much better 
than many, w^ho had a higher opinion of their skill in it Lord 
Edward Fitzgerald was admitted to tlie parties at the Dutchess 
de Polignac's on his first coming to Paris j but when his con- 
nexion with the Duke of Orleans and Madame de Genlis became 
known, he was informed, that his society would be dispensed 
with. The famousjv or /rather the infamous. Beckford was istlso 
excluded; '". -• ■ . - ?.'■ - 



144 CHAPTER. X, 

felt aggrieved at the preference given by the queen to 
the Dutchess de Polignac, that which raised against her 
majesty the most implacable resentraentj was her fre- 
quenting the parties of her favourite, more than those of 
any other of the haut ton. These assemblies, from the 
situation held by the dutchess, could not always be the 
most select. Many of the guests, who chanced to get 
access to them, from a mere glimpse of the queen — 
whose general good humour, vivacity, and constant wish 
to please all around her, would often make her commit 
herself unconsciously and unintentionally — would fabri- 
cate anecdotes of things they had neither seen nor heard ; 
and which never had existence, except in their own 
wicked imaginations. The scene of the inventions, cir- 
culated against her majesty through France, was in con- 
sequence generally placed at the dutchess's; but they 
were usually so distinctly and obviously false, that no 
notice was taken of them, nor was any attempt made to 
check their promulgation. 

' Exemplary as was the friendship between this en- 
thusiastic pair, how much more fortunate for both would 
it have been, had* it never happened ! I foresaw the 
results long, long before they took place ; but the queen 
was not to be thwarted. Fearful she might attribute my 
anxiety for her general safety to unworthy personal 
views, I was often silent, even when duty bade me 
speak. I was, perhaps, too scrupulous about seeming 
officious or jealous of the predilection shown to the 
dutchess. Experience had taught me the inutility of re- 
presenting consequences, " and I had no wish to quarrel 
with the queen. Indeed there was a degree of coldness 
towards me on the part of her majesty, for having gone 
so far as I had done. It was not till after the birth of 
the Duke of Normandy, her third child, in March, 1785;^ 
that her friendship resumed its pripiitive warmth. 



CHAPTER X. 145 

* As the children grew, her majesty's attachment for 
their governess grew with them. All that has been said 
of Tasso's Armida was nothing to this luxurious temple 
of maternal affection. Never was female friendship 
more strongly cemented, or less disturbed by the nause- 
ous poison of envy, malice, or mean jealousy. The 
queen was in the plenitude of every earthly enjoyment, 
from being able to see and contribute to the education of 
the children she tenderly loved, unrestrained by the 
gothic etiquette, with which all former royal mothers 
had been fettered, but which the kind indulgence of the 
Dutchess de Polignac broke through, as unnatural and 
•unworthy of the enlightened and affectionate. The 
dutchess was herself an attentive, careful mother. She 
felt for the queen, and encouraged her maternal sympa- 
thies, so doubly endeared by the long, long disappoint- 
ment, which had preceded their gratification. The 
sacrifice of all the cold forms of state policy by the 
new governess, and the free access she gave the royal 
mother to her children, so unprecedented in the court of 
France, rendered Maria Antoinette so grateful, that it 
may justly be said she divided her heart between the 
governess and the governed. Habit soon made it neces- 
sary for her existence, that she should dedicate the whole 
of her time, not taken up in public ceremonies or parties, 
to the cultivation of the minds of her children. Con- 
scious of her own deficiency in this respect, she deter- 
mined to redeem this error in her offspring. The love 
of the frivolous amusements of society, for which the 
want of higher cultivation left room in her mind, was hu- 
moured by the gaieties of the Dutchess de Polignac's as- 
semblies ; while her nobler dispositions were encouraged 
by the privileges of the favourite's station. Thus all her 
inclinations harmonising with the habits and position of 
her friend; Maria Antoinette literally passed the greatest 

T 



146 CHAPTER X. 

))art of some years in company with the Dutchess de Po- 
Ijgnac ; either amidst the glare and bustle of public re- 
creation, or in the private apartment of the governess 
and her children, increasing as much as possible the 
kindness of the one for the benefit and comfort of the 
others. The attachment of the dutchess to the royal 
children w^as returned by the queen's affection for the off- 
spring of the dutchess. So much was her majesty inter- 
ested in favour of the daughter of the dutchess, that, 
before that young lady was fifteen years of age, she her- 
self contrived and accomplished her marriage with the 
Duke de Guiche, then maitre de ceremonie to her ma- 
jesty, and whose interests were essentially promoted by 
this alliance.* 



* The Duke de Guiche, since Duke de Crammont, has proved 
how much he merited the distinctions he received, in consequence 
of the attachment between the queen and his mother-in-law, by 
the devotedness with which he followed the fallen fortunes of the 
Bourbons till their restoration, since which he has not been for- 
gotten. The dutchess, his wife, who at her marriage was beaming 
with all the beauties of her age, and adorned by art and nature 
v.'ith every accomplishment, though she came into notice at a 
time, when the court had scarcely recovered itself from the 
debauched morals by which it had been so long degraded by a 
Pompadour and a Du Barry, has yet preserved her character, bj 
the strictness of her conduct, free from the censorious criticisms 
of an epoch, in which some of the purest could not escape unas- 
sailed. I saw her at Pyrmont in 1 803 ; and even then, though 
the mother of many children, she looked as young and beautiful 
as ever. She was remarkably well educated and accomplished, a 
profound musician on the harp and piano forte, graceful in her 
conversation, and a most charming dancer. She seemed to bear 
the vicissitudes of fortune with a philosophical courage and resig- 
nation, not often to be met with in light-headed French women. 
She was amiable in her manners, easy of access, always lively 
and cheerful, and enthusiastically attached to the country whence 
she was then excluded. She constantly accompanied the wife of 



CHAPTER X. 147 

* The great cabals, which agitated the court in conse- 
quence of the favour shown to the Polignacs, were not 
slow in declaring themselves. The Countess de Noailles 
was one of the foremost among the discontented. Her 
resignation, upon the appointment of a superintendent, 
was a sufficient evidence of her real feeling ; but when 
she now saw a place filled, to which she conceived her 
family had a claim, her displeasure could not be silent, 
and her dislike to the queen began to express itself with- 
out reserve. 

'^ Another source of dissatisfaction against the queen 
was her extreme partialty for the English. After the 
peace of Versailles in 1783, the English flocked into 
France, and I believe if a poodle dog had come from 
England, it would have met with a good reception from 
her majesty. This was natural enough. The American 
war had been carried on entirely against her wish; 
though from the influence she was supposed to exercise 
in the cabinet, it was presumed to have been managed 
entirely by herself. This odious opinion she wished 
personally to destroy ; and it could only be done by the 
distinction with which, after the peace, she treated the 
whole English nation.* 

the late Louis XVIII. during her travels in Germany, as her 
husband the duke did his majesty during his residence at Mittau^ 
in Coui-land, &c. I have had the honour of seeing the duke 
twice since the revolution ', once, on my coming from Russia, at 
General Binkingdroff's, Governor of Mittau, and since, in Port- 
land Place, at the French Ambassador's, on his coming to Eng- 
land in the name of his sovereign, to congratulate the King of 
England on his accession to the throne. 

* The daughter of the Dutchess de Polignac (of my meeting 
with whom I have already spoken in a note,) entering with me 
upon the subject of France and of old times, oJ)served, that had 
the queen limited her attachment to the person of her mother, she 
would not have given all the annoyance^ which she did to the no» 



148 CHAPTER X. 

^ Several of the English nobility were on a familiar 
footing at the parties of the Dutchess de Polignac. This 
was quite enough for the slanderers. They were all 
ranked, and that publicly, as lovers of her majesty. I 
recollect when there were no less than five different pri- 
vate commissioners out, to suppress the libels, that were 
in circulation over all France, against the queen and Lord 
Edward Dillon, the Duke of Dorset, Lord George Con- 
way, Arthur Dillon, as well as Count Fersen, the Duke 
de Lauzun, and the Count D'Artois, who were all, not 
only constant frequenters of Polignac's, but visiters of 
Maria Antoinette. 

^ By the false policy of her majesty's advisers, these 
enemies and libellers, instead of being brought to the 
condign punishment their infamy deserved, were pri- 
vately hushed into silence, out of delicacy to the queon^ 
feelings, by large sums of money and pensions, whi civ en- 
couraged numbers to commit the same enormity, in the 
liope of obtaining the same recompense. 



biiitj- It was to these partialities to the English the Dutchess de 
Guiche Grammont alluded. I do not know the lady's name dis- 
tinctly,, but I am certain I have heard the beautiful Lady Sarah 
Bunbury mentioned by the Princess Lamballe, as having received 
particular attention from the queen^ for the princess had heard 
much about this lady and " a certain great personage" in England; 
but, on discovering her acquaintance with the Duke of Lauzun, 
lier majesty withdrew from the intimacy, though not soon enough 
to prevent its having given food for scandal. " You must remem- 
ber," added the Dutchess de Guiche Grammont, " how much the 
queen was censured for her enthusiasm about Lady Spencer." I 
replied that I did remember the 7nuch-ado about nothing there was 
regarding some English lady, to whom the queen took a liking, 
whose name I could not exactly recall; but I knew well she studi- 
ed to please the English in general. Of this Lady Spencer it is, 
that the princess speaks in one of the following pages of this 
chapter. 



CHAPTER X. 149 

^ But these were mercenary wretches from whom no 
better could have been expected. A legitimate mode of 
robbery had been pressed upon their notice by the go- 
vernment itself, and they thought it only a matter of fair 
speculation, to make the best of it. There were some 
libellers, however, of a higher order, in comparison with 
whose motives for slander, those of the mere scandal - 
jobbers were white as the driven snow. Of these, one 
of the worst was the Duke de Lauzun. 

^ The first motive of the queen's strong dislike to the 
Duke de Lauzun sprang from her majesty's attachment 
to the Dutchess of Orleans, whom she really loved. She 
was greatly displeased at the injury inflicted upon her 
valued friend by Lauzun, in estranging the affection of 
the Duke of Orleans from his wife, by introducing him to 
depraved society. Among the associates to which this 
connexion led the Duke of Orleans were a certain Ma- 
dame Duthee, and Madame Buffon. 

^ When Lauzun, after having been expelled from the 
drawing room of the queen for his insolent presumption,* 
meeting with coolness at the king's levee, sought to cover 
his disgrace by appearing at the assemblies of the Dutch- 
ess de Polignac, her grace was too sincerely the friend of 
her sovereign and benefactress not to perceive the drift 
of his conduct. She consequently signified to the self- 
sufficient coxcomb, that her assemblies were not open to 
the public. Being thus shut out from their majesties, 
and, as a natural result, excluded from the most brilliant 
societies of Paris, Lauzun, from a most diabolical spirit 
of revenge, joined the nefarious party, which had suc- 
ceeded in poisoning the mind of the Duke of Orleans, 
and from the hordes of which, like the burning lava from 
Etna, issued calumnies, which swept the most virtttdus 

* The allusion here is to the affair of the heron plume. 



150 CHAPTER S, 

and innocent victims, that ever breathed, to their de- 
struction !* 

^ Among the queen's favourites, and those most in re- 
quest at the Polignac parties, was the good lady Spen- 
cer, with whom I became most intimately acquainted 
when I first went to England ; and from whom, as well 
from her two charming daughters, the Dutchess of De- 
vonshire and Lady Duncannon, since Lady Besborough, 
I received the greatest marks of cordial hospitality. In 
consequence, when her ladyship came to France, I has- 
tened to present her to the queen. Her majesty taking 
a great liking to the amiable English woman, and wish- 
ing to profit by her private conversations and society, 
gave orders, that Lady Spencer should pass to her pri- 
vate closet whenever she came to Versailles, without the 
formal ceremony of waiting in the anti-chamber to be 
announced. 

*One day, her majesty, Lady Spencer, and myself^ 
were observing the difliculty there was in acquiring a 
correct pronounciation of the English language, when 
Lady Spencer remarked, that it only required a little at- 
tention, 

^ "I beg your pardon," said the queen, " that's not 
all, because there are many things you do not call by their 
proper names, as they are in the dictionary.'^ 



* These vicious rivals in killing characters, and blackening vir- 
tue with imputations of every vice, never lost sight of their vic- 
tims till fate, cutting the thread of their own execrable existence, 
terminated a long career of crime too horrible to dwell upon I The 
whole story of the Princess Czartsorinski, to whom I have the 
honour of being allied, related by Lauzun, is totally destitute of 
any shadow of truth. This one instance will show, how much 
credit is due to the rest of liis infamous assertions against the 
honour and character of many others of the illustrious persons 
\vhom his venomous tonsne has traduced. 



CIL\PTER X. 151 

(iiVraiy what are they, please your majesty?" 
i a Well I will give you an instance. For exanaple^ 
les culoties—what do you call them?" 

< ^^ Small clothes," replied her ladyship. 

< "Ma foi! how can they be call small clothes for one 
large man ? Now I do look in the dictionary, and I find, 
pour le mot culottes — breeches." 

^ ^' Oh, please your majesty^ we never call them by 
that name in England." 

^ " Voilla done, j'ai raison !" 

^ "We say inexpressibles!" 

^ ^^ Ah, c'est mieux ! Dat do please me ver much 
better. II y a du bon sens la dedans. C'est une autre 
chose !" 

^ In the midst of this curious dialogue, in came the 
Duke of Dorset, Lord Edward Dillon, Count Fersen, and 
several English gentlemen, who, as they were going 
to the king's hunt, were all dressed in new buckskin 
breeches. 

*^ " I do not like," exclaimed the queen to them, 
^^dem yellow irresistibles!" 

^ Lady Spencer nearly fainted. ^» Vat make you so 
frightful, my dear lady?'' said the queen to her lady- 
ship, who was covering her face with her hands. <^ 1 
am terrified at your majesty's mistake."—-" Comment? 
did you no tell me just now, dat in England de lady call 
de culottes irresisdbles P^' — "0 mercy! I never could 
have made such a mistake, as to have applied to that 
part of the male dress such a word. I said, please your 
majesty, inexpressibles.'' 

' On this the gentlemen all laughed most heartily. 

* "' Veil, veil," replied the queen, ^^ do, my dear 
lady, discompose yourself. I vill no more call de bree- 
ches irresistibleSj but say small clotheS; if even elles sent 
upon a giant!" 



?,53 CHAPTER X, 

^ At the repetiiiofA of tjse naijgbty word breeches^ 
poor Lady Spertces^^s English delicacy quite overcame 
her. Forgetting where slie was, and also the company 
she was in, she ran from the room with her cross stick in 
her hand, ready to lay it on the shoulders of any one, 
who should attempt to obstruct her passage, flew into 
her carriage, and drove off full speed, as if fearful of be- 
ing contaminated : all to the no small amusement of the 
male guests. 

^ Her majesty and I laughed till the very tears ran 
down our cheeks. The Duke of Dorset, to keep up the 
joke, said there really were some counties in England 
where they called culottes, irresistibles, 

* Now that I am upon the subject of England, and the 
peace of 1783, which brought such throngs of EnglisJi 
over to France, there occurs to me a circumstance, rela- 
ting to the treaty of commerce signed at that time, which 
exhibits the Count de Vergennes to some advantage ; and 
with that, let me dismiss the topic, 

^ The Count de Vergennes was one of the most dis- 
tinguished ministers of France, I was intimately ac- 
quainted with him. His general character for upright- 
ness prompted his sovereign to govern in a manner con- 
genial to his own goodness of heart, which was certainly 
most for the advantage of his subjects. Vergennes cau- 
tioned Louis against the hypocritical adulations of his 
privileged courtiers. The count had been schooled in 
state policy by the great Venetian senator, Francis Fos- 
cari, the subtlest politician of his age, whom he consult- 
ed during his life on every important matter; and he 
was not very easily to be deceived, 

' When the treaty of commerce took place at the pe- 
riod I mention, the experienced Vergennes foresaw,— 
what afterwards really happened,— that France would 
be iiiundated with British manufactures ; but Calomie 



CHAPTER X. 153 

obstinately mairitained the contrary; till he was severely 
reminded of the consequence of his misguided policy, in 
the insults inflicted on him by enraged mobs of thousands 
of French artificers, whenever he appeared in public. 
But though the maniai for British goods had literally 
caused an entire stagnation of business in the French 
manufacturing towns, and thrown throngs upon the pave 
for want of employment, yet M. de Calonne either did 
not see, or pretended not to see, the errors he had com- 
mitted. Being informed, that the Count de Vergennes 
had justly attributed the public disorders to his falla- 
cious policy, M. de Calonne sent a friend to the count 
demanding satisfaction for the charge of having caused 
the riots. The count calmly replied, that he was too 
much of a man of honour to take so great an advantage, 
as to avail himself of the opportunity offered, by killing 
a man who had only one life to dispose of, when there 
were so many with a prior claim, who were so anxious 
to destroy him en societe. " Bid M, de Calonne,'^ con- 
tinued the count, "first get out of that scrape, as the 
English boxers do when their eyes are closed up after a 
pitched battle. He has been playing at blind man's buff, 
but the poverty, to which he has reduced so many of 
our trades-people, has torn the English bandage from his 
eyes!" For three or four days the Count de Vergennes 
visited publicly and showed himself every where, in and 
about Paris ; but M. de Calonne was so well convinced 
of the truth of the old fox's satire, that he pocketed his 
annoyance, and no more was said about fighting. In- 
deed, the Couat de Vergennes gave hints of being able 
to show, that M. de Calonne had been bribed into the 
treaty.' 

The Princess Lamballe has alluded in a former page 
to the happiness which the queen enjoyed during the vi= 

U 



154 CHAPTER X. 

sits of the foreign princes to the court of France. Her 
papers contain a few passages upon the opinions her ma- 
jesty entertained of the royal travellers; which, al- 
though in the order of time they should have been men- 
tioned before the peace with England, yet, not to dis- 
turb the chain of the narrative, respecting the connex- 
ion with the Princess Laraballe, of the prevailing libels, 
and the partiality shown towards the English, I have 
reserved them for the conclusion of the present chapter. 
The timidity of the queen in the presence of the illus- 
trious strangers, and her agitation when about to receive 
them, have, I think, been already spoken of. Upon the 
subject of the royal travellers themselves, and other per- 
sonages, the princess expresses herself thuSo 



^ The queen had never been an admirer of Catharine 
II. Notwithstanding her studied policy for the advance- 
ment of civilization in her internal empire, the means 
which, aided by the Princess DashkofT, she made use of 
to seat herself on the imperial throne of her weak hus- 
band, Peter the Third, had made her more understood 
than esteemed. Yet when her son, the Grand Duke of 
the North,* and the Grand Dutchess, his wife, came to 
France, their description of Catharine's real character 
so shocked the maternal sensibility of Maria Antoinette, 
that she could scarcely hear the name of the empress 
without shuddering. The grand duke spoke of Catha- 
rine without the least disguise. He said he travelled 
merely for the security of his life from his mother, who 
had surrounded him with creatures, that were his sworn 
enemies, her own spies and infamous favourites, to whose 
caprices they were utterly subordinate. He was aware^ 
that the dangerous credulity of the empress might be 

* Afterwards the imhappv Kmpero'r Paul. 



CHAPTER X. 155 

every hour excited by these wretches to the destruction 
of himself and his dutchess, and therefore, he had in 
absence sought the only refuge.^ He had no wish, he 
said, ever to return to his native country, till Heaven 
should cheek his mothers doubts respecting his dutiful 
filial affection towards her, or till God should be pleased 
to take her into his sacred keeping. 

^ The king was petrified at the duke's description of 
his situation, and the queen could not refrain from tears, 
when the dutchess, his wife, confirmed all her husband 
had uttered on the subject. The dutchess said, she had 
been warned by the untimely fate of the Princess 
D'Armstadt, her predecessor, the first wife of the grand 
duke, to elude similar jealousy and suspicion on the part 
of her mother-in-law, by seclusion from the court, in a 
country residence with her husband ; indeed, that she 
had made it a point never to visit Petersburg, except on 
the express invitation of the empress, as if she had been 
a foreigner. 

^ In this system the grand dutchess persevered even 
after her return from her travels. When she became 
pregnant, and drew near her accouchement, the empress 
mother permitted her to come to Petersburg for that 
purpose ; but as soon as the ceremony required by 
the etiquette of the imperial court on those occasions 
ended, the dutchess immediately returned back to her 
hermitage. 

^ This princess was remarkably well educated 5 she 
possessed a great deal of good, sound sense, and had pro- 
fitted by the instructions of some of the best German tu- 
tors during her very early years. It was the policy of 
her father, the Duke of Wirtemberg, who had a large 
family, to educate his children as quietists in matters of 
religion. He foresaw, that the natural charms and ac- 
quired abilities of his daughters would one day call them 



156 CHAPTER S. 

to be the ornaments of the most distinguished courts in 
Europe, and he thought it prudent not to instill early 
prejudices in favour of*peculiar forms of religion, which 
might afterwards present an obstacle to their aggrandise- 
ment.*' 

^ The notorious vices of the King of Denmark, and 
his total neglect both of his young queen, Carolina Ma- 
tilda, and of the interest of his distant dominions, while 
in Paris, created a feeling in the queen's mind towards 
that house, which was not a little heightened by her dis- 
gust at the King of Sweden, when he visited the court of 
Versailles. This king, though much more crafty than 
his brothep-in-law^, the King of Denmark, who revelled 
openly in his depravities, was not less vicious. The de- 
ception he made use of in usurping part of the rights of 
his people, combined with the worthlessness and duplici- 
ty of his private conduct, excited a strong indignation in 
the mind of Maria Antoinette, of which she was scarce- 

* The first daughter of the Duke of Wirteraberg was the first 
wife of the present Emperor of Austria. She embraced the Ca- 
tholic faith, and died very young, two days before the Emperor 
Joseph the Second, at Vienna. The present empress dowager, 
late wife to Paul, became a proselyte to the Greek religion on her 
arrival at Petersburgh. The son of the Duke of Wirtemberg, 
who succeeded him in the dukedem, was a Protestant, it being 
his interest to profess that religion for the security of his inheri- 
tance. Prince Ferdinand, who was in the Austrian service, and 
a long time governor of Vienna, was a Catholic, as he could not 
otherwise have enjoyed that office. He was of a very superior 
character to the duke his brother. Prince Louis, who held a 
commission undeip the Prussian monarch, followed the religion of 
the country where he served, and the other princes, who were in 
the employment of Sweden, and other countries, found no difficul= 
%j in conforming themselves to the religion of the sovereigns un- 
der whom they served. None of them having any established 
forms of worship, they naturally embraced that which conduced 
most to their aggrandisement^ emolument, or dignity. 



CHAPTER X. 157 

ly capable of withholding the expression in his pre- 
sence. 

* It was during the visit of the Duke and Dutchess of 
the North, that the Cardinal de Rohan again appeared 
upon the scene. For eight or ten years he had never 
been allowed to show himself at court, and had been to- 
tally shut out of every society where the queen visited. 
On the arrival of the illustrious travellers at Versailles, 
the queen at her own expense, gave them a grand fete, 
at her private palace, in the gardens of Trianon, similar 
to the one given by the Count de Provence* to her ma- 
jesty, in the gardens of Brunoi. 

^ On the eve of the fete, the cardinal waited upon rae 
to know, if he would be permitted to appear there in the 
character he had the honour to hold at court. I replied, 
that I had made it a rule never to interfere in the private 
or public amusements of the court, and that his eminence 
must be the best judge, how far he could obtrude him- 
self upon the queen's private parties, to which only a 
select number had been invited, in consequence of the 
confined spot where the fete was to be given. 

< The cardinal left me, not much satisfied at his recep- 
tion. Determined to follow, as usual, his own misguided 
passion, he immediately went to Trianon, disguised with 
a large cloak. He saw the porter, and bribed him. He 
only wished, he said, to be placed in a situation whence 
he might see the Duke and Dutchess of the North with- 
out being seen ; but no sooner did he perceive the por- 
ter engaged at some distance, than he left his cloak at 
the lodge, and went forward in his cardinal's dress, as if 
he had been one of the invited guests, placing himself 
purposely in the queen's path to attract her attention, as 
she rode by in the carriage with the duke and dutchess. 

* Afterwards Louia XVIII. 



158 CHAPTER X. 

' The queen was shocked and thunderstruck at see- 
ing hira. But great as was her annoyance, knowing the 
cardinal had not been invited, and ought not to have been 
there, she only discharged the porter who had been se- 
duced to let him in: and though the king, on being made 
acquainted with his treachery, would have banished his 
eminence a hundred leagues from the capital, yet the 
queen, the royal aunts, the princess Elizabeth, and my- 
self, not to make the affair public, and thereby disgrace 
the high order of his ecclesiastical dignity, prevented 
the king from exercising his authority by commanding 
instant exile. 

* Indeed, the queen could never get the better of her 
fears of being some day, or in some way or other, betray- 
ed by the cardinal, for having made him the confident of 
the mortification she would have suffered, if the project- 
ed marriage of Louis XV. and her sister had been solem- 
nized. On this account she uniformly opposed whatever 
harshness the king at any time intended against the car- 
dinal. 

^ Thus was this wicked prelate left at leisure to pre- 
meditate the horrid plot of the famous necklace, the ever 
memorable fraud, which so fatally verified the presenti=^ 
ments of the queen.' 



( 159 ) 



CHAPTER XI. 

Editor's observations, and recapitulation of the leading particu- 
lars of the diamond necklace plot. — Journal resumed. — Prin- 
cess Lamballe's remarks on that dark transaction. — Vergennes 
opposes judicial investigation.— The queen's partj prevail in 
bringing the aifair before the council. — Groundlessness of the 
charge against Maria Antoinette. — Confusion of Rohan when 
confronted with the queen. — He procures the destruction of all 
the letters of the other conspirators. — Means resorted to by 
Rohan's friends to obtain his acquittal. — The Princess Conde 
expends large suras for that purpose. — Her confusion when the 
proofs of her bribery are exhibited — The king's impartiality. 
—Mr. Sheridan discovers the treachery of M. de Calonne. — 
Calonne's abject behaviour, dismissal, and disgrace. — Note of 
the editor. 

The production of the Marriage of Figaro, by Beau- 
niarchais^ upon the stage at Paris, so replete with inde- 
corous and slanderous allusions to the royal family, had 
spread the prejudices against the queen through the 
whole kingdom and every rank of France^ just in time 
to prepare all minds for the deadly blow, which her ma- 
jesty received from the infamous plot of the diamond 
necklace. From this year, 1785, crimes and misfortunes 
trod closely on each others' heels in the history of the 
ill-starred queen; and one calamity only disappeared to 
make way for a greater. 

The destruction of the papers, which wou-ld have tho- 
roughly explained the transaction, has still left all its es- 
sential particulars in some degree of mystery; and the 
interest of the clergy, who supported one of their own 
body, coupled with the arts and bribes of the high houses 



160 CHAPTER XI, 

connected with the plotting prelate, must, of course, have 
discoloured greatly even what was well known. 

It will be recollected, that before the accession of Louis 
XVI. the Cardinal de Rohan was disgraced in consequence 
of his intrigues ;— that all his ingenuity was afterwards 
unremittingly exerted to obtain renewed favour ;■— -that 
he once obtruded himself upon the notice of the queen 
in the gardens of Trianon,^ — and that his conduct in so 
doing excited the indignation it deserved, but was left 
unpunished, owing to the entreaties of the best friends 
of the queen, and her own secret horror of a man, who 
had already caused her so much anguish. 

With the histories of the fraud every one is acquaint- 
ed. That of Madame Campao, as far as it goes, is suflGi- 
ciently detailed and correct to spare me the necessity of 
expatiating upon this theme of villany. Yet to assist the 
reader's memory, before returning to the journal of the 
Princess Lamballe, I shall recapitulate the leading parti- 
culars. 

The cardinal had become connected with a young, but 
artful and necessitous, woman, of the name of Lamotte» 
It was known, that the darling ambition of the cardinal 
was to regain the favour of the queen. 

The necklace which has been already spoken of, and 
which was originally destined by Louis XV. for Maria 
Antoinette— had her hand, by divorce, been transferred 
to him, but which, though afterwards intended by Louis 
XV. for his mistress, Du Barry, never came to her in 
consequence of his death— this fatal necklace was still in 
existence, and in the possession of the crown jewellers^, 
Boehmer and Bassange. It was valued at eighteen hun- 
dred thousand livres. The jewellers had often pressed 
it upon the queen, and even the king himself had enfor- 
ced its acceptance. But the queen dreaded the expense, 
especially at an epoch of pecuniary difficulty in the stat^ 



CHAPTER a^l. 161 

much more than she coveted the jewels, and uniformly 
and resolutely declined them, although they had been 
proposed to her on very easy terms of payment, as she 
really did not like ornaments. 

It was made to appear at the parliamentary investiga- 
tion, that the artful Lamotte had impelled the cardinal to 
believe, that she herself was in communication v/ith the 
queen ; that she had interested her majesty in favour of 
the long slighted cardinal : that she had fabricated a 
correspondence, in which professions of penitence on the 
part of Rohan were answered by assurances of forgive = 
ness from the queen. The result of this correspondence 
was represented to be the engagement of the cardinal to 
negotiate the purchase of the necklace, secretly^ by a 
contract for periodical payments. To the forgery of pa- 
pers was added, it was declared, the substitution of the 
queen's person, by dressing up a girl of the palais royal 
to represent her majesty, whom she in some degree re- 
. sembled, in a secret and rapid interview with Rohan in a 
dark grove of the gardens of Versailles, where she was 
to give the cardinal a rose, in token of her royal appro- 
bation, and then hastily disappear. The importunity of 
the jewellers, on the failure of the stipulated payment, 
disclosed the plot, A direct appeal of theirs to the queen, 
to save them from ruin, was the immediate source of 
detection. The cardinal was arrested, and all the parties 
tried. But the cardinal Vi^as acquitted, and Lamotte and 
a subordinate agent alone punished. The quack Caglio- 
stro was also in the plot, but he too escaped, like his 
confederate the cardinal, who was made to appear as the 
dupe of Lamotte. 

The queen never got over the effect of this affair. 
Her friends well knew the danger of severe measures,to- 
wards one capable of collecting around him strong sup- 
port against a power, already so much weakened by fac- 

X 



IGl-i CHAPTEIl XIc 

tion and discord. But the indignation of conseious 
innocence insulted, prevailed, though to its ruin ! 

But it is time to let the Princess Lamballe give her 
own impressions upon this fatal subject, and in her own 
words. 

^ How could Messieurs Bcehmer and Bassange pre- 
sume, that the queen would have employed any third 
person to obtain an article of such value, without ena- 
bling them to produce an unequivocal document signed 
by her own hand and countersigned by mine, as had ever 
been the rule, during my superintendence of the house- 
hold, whenever any thing was ordered from the jewellers 
by her majesty? Why did not Messieurs Bcehmer and 
Bassange wait on me, when they saw a document unau- 
thorized by me, and so widely departing from the esta- 
blished forms ? I must still think, as I have often said to 
the king, that Bcehmer and Bassange wished to get rid 
of this dead weight of diamonds in any way, and the 
queen having unfortunately been led by me to hush up 
many foul libels against her reputation, as I then thought 
it prudent she should do, rather than compromise her 
character with wretches capable of doing any thing to 
injure her, these jewellers, judging from this erroneous 
policy of the past, imagined, that in this instance, also, 
rather than hazard exposure, her majesty would pay 
them for the necklace. This was a compromise which 
I myself resisted, though so decidedly adverse to bring- 
ing the affair before the nation by a public trial. Of such 
an explosion, I foresaw the consequences, and I ardently 
entreated the king and queen to take other measures. 
But though, till now, so hostile to severity with the car- 
dinal, the queen felt herself so insulted by the proceed- 
ing, that she gave up every other consideration, to make 
manifest her innocence, 

^ The wary Count de Vergennes did all he could to 



CHAPTER XT, 163 

prevent the affair from getting before the public. 
Against the opinion of the king and the whole council of 
ministers he opposed judicial proceedings. Not that he 
conceived the cardinal altogether guiltless ; but he fore- 
saw the fatal consequences that must result to her m*a- 
jesty, from bringing to trial an ecclesiastic of such rank ; 
for he Will knew, that the host of the higher orders of 
the nobility, to whom the prelate was allied, would na- 
turally strain every point to blacken the character of the 
king and queen, as the only means of exonerating their 
kinsman in the eyes of the world from the criminal mys- 
tery attached to that most diabolical intrigue against the 
fair fame of Maria Antoinette. The count could not 
bear the idea of the queen's name being coupled with 
those of the vile wretches, Lamotte and the mountebank 
Cagliostro, and therefore wished the king to chastise the 
cardinal by a partial exile, which miglst have been re- 
moved at pleasure. But the queen's party too fatally 
seconded her feelings, and prevailed. 

' I sat by her majesty's bed-side the whole of the 
night, after I heard what had been determined against 
the cardinal by the council of ministers, to beg her to use 
all her interest with the king to persuade hira to revoke 
the order of the v^^irrant for the prelate's arrest. To 
this the queen replied, ^' Then the king, the ministers, 
and the people, will all deem me guilty!" 

^ Her majesty's remark stopped all farther argument 
upon the subject, and I had the inconsolable grief to see 
my royal mistress rushing upon dangers, which I had no 
power of preventing her from bringing upon herself. 

^ The slanderers, who had imputed such unbounded 
influence to the queen over the mind of Louis XVI, 
should have been consistent enough to consider, that 
with but a twentieth part of the tithe of her imputed 
power, uncontrolled as she then v^as by national aathori« 



164 CHAPTER XI. 

ty, slie might, without any exposure to third persons, 
have at once sent one of her pages to the garde-meuhle^ 
and other royal depositaries, replete with hidden trea- 
sures of precious stones which never saw the light, and 
thence have supplied herself with more than enough to 
form ten necklaces, or have fully satisfied, in any way 
she liked, the most unbounded passion for diamonds, 
for the use of which she v^^ould never have been called to 
account. 

'But the truth is, the queen had no love of orna- 
ments. A proof occurred very soon after I had the 
honour to be nominated her majesty's superintendant. 
On the day of the great fete of the Cordon Bleu, when 
it was the etiquette to wear diamonds and pearls, the 
queen had omitted putting them on« As there had been, 
a greater affluence of visiters than usual that morningj- 
and her majesty's toilet was over-thronged by princes 
and princesses, I fancied, in the bustle, that the omission 
proceeded from forgetfulness. Consequently, I sent the 
tire woman, in the queen's hearing, to order the jewels 
to be brought in. Smilingly, her majesty replied^ "No, 
no ! I have not forgotten these gaudy things ; bfut I do 
not intend that the lustre of my eyes should be o.litshone 
by the one, or the whiteness of my teeth by the other | . 
however, as you wish art to eclipse nature, I'll v/eai^, 
them to satisfy you, ma belle dame!" 

^ The king was always so thoroughly indulgent to her 
majesty, with regard both to her public and private eon- 
duct, that she never had any pretex for those reserves, 
which sometimes tempt queens, as well as the wives of 
private individuals, to commit themselves to third per- 
sons for articles of high value, which their caprice indis- 
creetly impels them to procure unknown to their natural 
guardians. Maria Antoinette had no reproach or cen» 
sure^ for plunging into expenses beyond her means, to 



CHAPTER XI. 165 

apprehend from her royal husband. On the contrary, 
the king himself had spontaneously offered to purchase 
the necklace from the jewellers, who had urged it on 
him without limiting any time for payment. It was the 
intention of his majesty to have liquidated it out of his 
private purse. But Maria Antoinette declined the gift. 
Twice, in my presence, was the refusal repeated before 
Messieurs Bcehmer and Bassange. Who then can for a 
moment presume, after all these circumstances, that the 
Queen of France, with a nation's wealth at her feet, and 
thousands of individuals offering her millions, which she 
never accepted, would have so far degraded herself and 
the honour of the nation, of which she was born to be 
the ornament, as to place herself gratuitously in the 
power of a knot of wretches, headed by a man whose 
general bad character for years had excluded him from 
court and every respectable society, and had made the 
queen (herself mark him as an object of the utmost 
aversioL 

* If these circumstances be not sufficient adequately to 
open the eyes of those whom prejudice has blinded, and 
whose ears have been deafened against truth, by the 
clamours of sinister conspirators against the monarchy 
instead of the monarchs; if all these circumstances, I re- 
peat, do not completely acquit the queen, argument, 
or even ocular demonstration itself would be thrown 
away. Posterity will judge impartially, and with im- 
partial judges the integrity of Maria Antoinette needs no 
defender. 

' When the natural , tendency of the character of 
Rohan to romantic and extraordinary intrigue is con- 
sidered in connexion with the associates he had gathered 
around him, the plot of the necklace ceases to be a 
source of wonder. At the time the cardinal was most at 
a loss for means to meet the necessities of his extrava- 



166 CHAPTER XI. 

gance, and to obtain some means of access to tbe queen^ 
the mountebank quack Cagliostro made his appearance 
in France. His fame had soon flown from Strasburgh to 
Paris, the magnet of vices and the seat of criminals. 
The prince cardinal, known of old as a seeker after 
every thing of notoriety, soon became the intimate of 
one who flattered him with the accomplishment of all his 
dreams in the realization of the philosopher's stone; con- 
verting puffs and French paste, into brilliants ; Roman 
pearls into Oriental ones; and turning earth to gold. 
The cardinal, always in want of means to supply the in- 
satiable exigencies of his ungovernable vices, had been 
the dupe through life of his own credulity — a drowning 
man catching at a straw! But instead of making gold 
of base materials, Cagliostro's brass soon relieved his 
blind adherent of all his sterling metal. As many needy 
persons enlisted under the banners of this nostrum spe- 
culator, it is not to be wondered at, that the infamous 
name of the Countess de Lamotte, and others of the 
same stamp, should have thus fallen into an association of 
the prince cardinal ; or that her libellous stories of the 
Queen of France should have found eager pj'omulgatorSj 
where the real diamonds of the famous necklace being 
taken apart were divided piecemeal among a horde of 
the most depraved sharpers, that ever existed to make 
human nature blush at its own degradation!*' 

* Cagliostro, when he came to Rome, for I know not whether 
there had been any previous intimacy, got acquainted with a cer- 
tain marchese Vivaldi, a Roman, whose wife had been for years the 
chire amie of the last Venetian ambassador, Peter Pesaro, a noble 
patrician, and who has ever since his embassy at Rome been his 
constant companion and nov/ resides with him in England. No 
men in Europe are more constant in their attachments than the 
Venetians. Pesaro is the sole proprietor of one of the most beau- 
tiful and magnificent palaces on the grand caiial at Venice, though 



CHAPTER XT. 167 

* Eight or teu years had elapsed from the time her 
majesty had last seen the cardinal to speak to him, with 
the exception of the casual glance as she drove by yvhen 
he furtively introduced himself into the garden at the 
fete at Trianon, till he was brought to the king's cabinet 
when arrested, and interrogated, and confronted with her 
face to face. The prince started when he saw her. 
The comparison of her features with those of the guilty 
wretch, who had dared to personate her in the garden 
at Versailles, completely destroyed his self-possession, 
Bter majesty's person was become fuller, and her face was 
much longer than that of the infamous D'Oliva. He 



he now lives in tlie outskirts of London, in a small liouse, not so 
large as one of the offices of his immense noble palace, where his 
agent transacts his business. The husband of Pesaro's chcre amie, 
the marchese Vivaldi, when Cagliostro was ai'rested and sent to 
the Castello Santo Angelo at Rome, was obliged to fly his coun- 
try, and went to Venice, where he was kept secreted and main- 
tained by the Marquis Solari, and it was only through his means 
and those of the Cardinal Consalvi, then known only as the mil' 
steal Abbe Consalvi, from his great attachment to the immortal 
Cimarosa, that Vivaldi was ever allowed to return to his native 
country; but Consalvi, who was the friend of Vivaldi, feeling 
with the marquis Solari much interested for his situation, they 
together contrived to convince Pius VI. that he was more to be 
pitied than blamed, and thus obtained his recall. I have merely 
given this note as a further warning to be drawn from the connex- 
ions of the Cardinal de Rohan, to deter hunters after novelty 
from forming ties with innovators and impostors. Cagliostro was 
ultimately condemned, by the Roman laws under Pope Pius VI. 
for life, to the gallies, where he died. 

Proverbs ought to be respected ; for it is said that no phrase 
becomes a proverb until after a century's experience of its truth. 
In England, it is proverbial to judge of men by the company they 
Keep. To judge of the Cardinal de Rohan from his most inti- 
mate friend, the galley-slave, Cagliostro, what shall we say of his 
dignity as a prince, and bis purity as a prelate ? 



168 CHAPTER XI, 

could neither speak nor write an intelligible reply to tlie 
questions put to him. All he could utter, and that only 
in broken accents was, ^"^Fll pay! I'll pay Messieurs 
Bassange." 

•^ Had he not speedily recovered himself, all the mys- 
tery in which this aiFair has been left, so injuriously to 
the queen, might have been prevented. His papers 
would have declared the history of every particular, and 
distinctly established the extent of his crime, and the 
thorough innocence of Maria Antoinette of any conni- 
vance at the fraud, or any knowledge of the necklace.. 
But when the cardinal was ordered by the king's coun- 
cil to be put under arrest, his self-possession returned. 
He was given in charge to an officer totally unacquainted 
with the nature of the accusation. Considering only the 
character of his prisoner, as one of the highest dignita- 
ries of the church, from ignorance and inexperience, he 
left the cardinal an opportunity to write a German note 
to his factotum, the Abbe Georgel. In this note tfe^ 
trusty secretary was ordered to destroy all the letters of 
€agliostro, Madame de Lamotte, and the other wretched 
associates of the infamous conspiracy | and the traitor 
was scarcely in custody, when every evidence of his 
treason had disappeared. The note to Georgel saved 
his master from expiating his offence at the Place de 
Greve. 

* The consequences of the affair would have been less 
injurious, however, had it been managed, even as it 
stood, with better judgment and temper. But it was 
improperly entrusted to the Baron de Breteuil and the 
Abbe Vermond, both sworn enemies of the cardinal. 
Their main object was the ruin of him they hated, and 
they listened only to their resentments. They never 
weighed the danger of publicly prosecuting an individual 
whose condemnation would involve the first families in 



CHAPTER XI. 169 

France, for he was allied even to many of the princes of 
the blood. Tfiey should have considered, that exalted 
personages, naturally feeling as if any crime proved 
against their kinsman would be a stain upon themselvesj 
would of course resort to every artifice to exonerate the 
accused. To criminate the queen was the only and the 
obvious method. Few are those nearest the crown, who 
are not most jealous of its wearers! Look at the long 
civil wars of York and Lancaster, and the short reign of 
Richard. The downfall of king's meets less resistance 
than that of their inferiors. 

^ Still, notwithstanding all the deplorable blunders 
committed in this business of Rohan, justice was not 
smothered without great difficulty. His acquittal cost 
Jthe families of Rohan and Conde more than a million of 
Uvres, distributed among all ranks of the clergy; be- 
sides immense sums, sent to the court of Rome, to make 
it invalidate the judgment of the civil authority of France 
J^on. so high a member of the church, and to induce it 
to order the cardinal's being sent to Rome, by way of 
screening him from the prosecution, under the plausible 
pretext of more rigid justice. 

' Considerable sums in money and jewels were also Ia= 
vished on all the female relatives of the peers of France, 
who were destined to sit on the trial. The Abbe Geor- 
gel bribed the press, and extravagantly paid all the lite - 
rary pens in France, to produce the most Jesuitical and 
sophisticated arguments in his patron's justification. 
Though these writers dared not accuse, or, in any way 
criminate, the queen, yet the respectful doubts, with 
which their defence of her were seasoned, did infinitely 
more mischief than any direct attack, which could have 
been directly answered. 

< The long cherished, but till now smothered, resent- 
ment of the Countess de NoaiUes, the scrupulous Ma- 

Y 



170 CHAPTER XI. 

dame Etiquette, burst forth on this occasion. Openly 
joining the cardinal's party against her former mistress 
and sovereign, she recruited and armed all in favour of 
her protege ; for it was by her intrigues Rohan had been 
nominated ambassador to Vienna. Madames de Gueme- 
nee and Marsan, rival pretenders to favours of his emi- 
nence, were equally earnest to support him against the 
queen. In short, there was scarcely a family of distinc- 
tion in France, that, from the libels which then inunda- 
ted the kingdom, did not consider the king as having in- 
fringed on their prerogatives and privileges in accusing 
the cardinal. 

^ Shortly after the acquittal of this most artful, and, 
in the present instance, certainly too fortunate prelate, 
the Princess Conde came to congratulate me on the 
queen's innocence, and her kinsman's liberation from the 
Bastille. 

^ Without the slightest observation, I produced to the 
princess documents in proof of the immense sums she 
alone had expended in bribing the judges, and other 
persons, to save her relation, the cardinal, by criminating 
her majesty. 

^ The Princess Conde instantly fell into violent hyste= 
ricks, and was carried home apparently lifeless. 

^ I have often reproached myself for having given that 
sudden shock and poignant anguish to her highness, but I 
could not have supposed that one, who came so barefaced» 
ly to impress me with the cardinal's innocence, could 
have been less firm in refuting her own guilt. 

^ I never mentioned the circumstance to the queen 
Had I done so, her highness would have been for ever 
excluded from the court and the royal presence. This 
was no time to increase the enemies of her majesty, and 
the affair of the trial being ended, I thought it best to 
prevent any further breach from a discord between the 



CHAPTER XT, 171 

<£OUPt and the house of Conde. However, from a cold- 
ness subsisting ever after between the princess and my- 
self, I doubt not that the queen had her suspicions, that 
all was not as it should be in that quarter. Indeed, 
though her majesty never confessed it, I think she her- 
self had discovered something at that very time not al- 
together to the credit of the Princess Conde, for she 
ceased going, from that period, to any of the fetes given 
at Chantilly. 

' These were but a small portion of the various instru- 
ments successfully levelled by parties, even the least sus- 
pected, to blacken and destroy the fair fame of Maria 
Antoinette. 

^The document, which so justly alarmed the Princess 
Conde when I showed it to her, came into my hands in 
the following manner. 

' Whenever a distressed family, or any particular in- 
dividual, applied to me for relief, or was otherwise re- 
commended for charitable purposes, I generally sent my 
little English protege, — on whose veracity, well know- 
ing the goodness of her heart, I could rely,* — to ascer- 
tain whether their claims were really well grounded. 

^ One day, I received an earnest memorial from a fa- 
mily, desiring to make some private communications of 
peculiar delicacy. I sent ray usual ambassadress to in- 
quire into its import. On making her mission known;, 
she found no difficulty in ascertaining the object of the 
application. It proceeded from conscientious distress of 
mind. A relation of this family had been the regular 



* Indeed, I never deceived the princess on these occasions. 
She was so generously charitable, that I should have conceived it 
a crime. AVhen I could get no satisfactory information, I said I 
could not trace any thing undeserving her charity, and left her 
highness io exercise her own discretion. 



172 CHAPTER XI. 

confessor of a convent. With the lady abbess of this 
convent^ and her trusty nuns, the Princess Conde had 
deposited considerable sums of money, to be bestowed 
in creating influence in favour of the Cardinal de Rohan. 
The confessor, being a man of some consideration among 
the clergy, was applied to, to use his influence with the 
needier members of the church, more immediately about 
him, as well as those of higher station, to whom he had 
access, in furthering the purposes of the Princess Conde. 
The bribes were applied as intended. But at the near 
approach of death, the confessor was struck with re- 
morse. He begged his family, without mentioning his 
name, to send the accounts and vouchers of the sums he 
had so distributed, to me, as a proof of his contrition, 
that I might make what use of them I should think pro- 
per. The papers were handed to my messenger, who 
pledged her word of honour, that I would certainly ad- 
here to the dying man's last injunctions. She desired 
they might be sealed up by the family, and by them di^ 
rected to me.* She then hastened back to our place of 
rendezvous, where I waited for her, and where she con- 
signed the packet into my own hands. 

^ That part of the papers, wich compromised only the 
Princess Conde, was shown by me to the princess on the 
occasion I have mentioned. It was natural enough, thafc 
she should have been shocked at the detection of having 
suborned the clergy and others with heavy bribes to 
avert the deserved fate of the cardinal. I kept this part 
of the packet secret till the king's two aunts, who had 
also been warm advocates in favour of the prelate, left 
Paris for Rome* Then, as Pius VI. had interested him- 
self as head of the church for the honour of one of its 

* To this day, I neither know the name of the convent or the 

confessor^ 



CHAPTEB XI. 173 

members, I gave them these very papers, to deliver to 
his holiness for his private perusal. I was desirous of 
enabling this truly charitable and christian head of our 
sacred religion, to judge how far his interference wasi 
justified by facts. I am thoroughly convinced, that had 
he been sooner furnished with these evidences, instead 
of blamiog the royal proceeding, he would have urged it 
on, nay, would himself have been the first to advise, 
that the foul conspiracy should be dragged into open 
day.* 

' The Count de Vergennes told me, that the king dis- 
played the greatest impartiality throughout the whole in- 
vestigation for the exculpation of the queen, and made 
good his title on this, as he did on every occasion where 
his owft unbiassed feelings and opinions were called into 
action, to great esteem for much higher qualities than the 
world has usually given him credit for. 

' I have been accused of having opened the prison 
doors of the culprit Lamotte for her escape ; but the 
charge is false. I interested myself, as was ray duty, to 
shield the queen from public reproach by having La- 
motte sent to a place of penitence ; but I never interfer- 
ed, except to lessen her punishment, after the judicial 
proceedings. The diamonds, in the hands of her vile 
associates at Paris, procured her ample means to escape. 
I should have been the queen's greatest enemy, had I 
been the cause of giving liberty to one, who acted, and 
might naturally have been expected to act, as this de- 
praved woman did. 



* But these proofs came too late to redeem the character of her, 
whom fate, cruel fate ! had written in the book of destinies a vic- 
tim in this world, for her immortal salvation in the next. Never 
saint more merited to be ranked in the long list ef martyrs than 
Maria Antoinette-. 



174 CHAPTER XIo 

< Through the private correspondence which was carri- 
ed on between this country and England, after I had left 
it, I was informedj that M. de Calonne, whom the queen 
never liked, and who was called to the administration 
against her will — which he knew, and consequently he- 
came one of her secret enemies in the affair of the neck- 
lace—was discovered to have been actively employed 
against her majesty in the work published in London by 
Lamotte. 

^ Mr. Sheridan was the gentleman who first gave me 
this information. 

' I immediately sent a trusty person by the queen's or- 
ders, to London, to buy up the whole work. It was too 
late. It had been already so widely circulated, that its 
consequences could no longer be prevented. I was lucky 
enough, however, for a considerable sum, to get a copy 
from a person intimate with the author, the margin of 
which, in the hand-writing of M. de Calonne, actually 
contained numerous additional circumstances, which were 
to have been published in a second edition ! This pub- 
lication my agent, aided by some English gentlemen, ar- 
rived in time to suppress. 

< The copy I allude to was brought to Paris, and shown 
to the queen. She instantly flew with it in her hands to 
the king's cabinet. 

^ ^^ Now, Sir," exclaimed she, ^' I hope you will be 
convinced, that my enemies are those whom I have long 
considered as the most pernicious of your majesty's coun- 
cellors, — your own cabinet ministers, — your M. de Ca- 
lonne!— respecting whom I have often given you my 
opinion, which,' unfortunately, has always been attributed 
to mere female caprice, or as having been biassed by the 
intrigues of court favourites! This, I hope, your ma- 
jesty will now be able to contradict !" 

^ The king all this time was looking over the different 



CHAPTER XI. 175 

pages containing M. de Calonne's additions on their 
margins. On recognising the hand-writing, his majesty 
was so affected by this discovered treachery of his minis- 
ter, and the agitation of his calumniated queen^ that he 
could scarcely articulate. 

< " Where/' said he, ^^ did you procure this ?'' 

^ " Through the means. Sire, of some of the worthy 
members of that nation your treacherous ministers made 
our enemy— from England! where your unfortunate 
queen, your injured wife, is compassionated!'^ 

^ « Who got it for you ?" 

< " My dearest, my real, and my only sincere friend, 
the Princess Lamballe!" 

' The king requested I should be sent for. I came. 
As may be imagined, I was received with the warmest 
sentiments of affection by both their majesties. I then 
laid before the king the letter of Mr. Sheridan, which 
was, in substance, as follows.* 

^ " Madam, 

'*^A work of mine, which I did not choose 
should be printed, was published in Dublin, and trans- 
mitted to be sold in London. As soon as I was informed 
of it, and had procured a spurious copy, I went to the 
bookseller to put a stop to its circulation. I there met 
with a copy of the work of Madame de Lamotte, which 
has been corrected by some one at Paris, and sent 
back to the bookseller, for a second edition. Though 
not in time to suppress the first edition, owing to its 
rapid circulation, I have had interest enough, through 
the means of the bookseller of whom I speak, to remit 

* The letter was, of course, translated in the journal of the 
princess into Italian ; and is thence here restored into English, 
The original letter, probably, shared the fate of other papers of 
her highness in the reyolutionary riot?. 



176 CHAPTER XI. 

you the copy which has been sent as the basis of a new 
one. The corrections, I am told, are by one of the king's 
ministers. If true, I should imagine, the writer will be 
easily traced. 

< " I am happy that it has been in my power to make 
this discovery, and I hope it will be the means of put- 
ting a stop to this most scandalous publication. I feel 
myself honoured in having contributed thus far to the 
wishes of her majesty, which I hope I have fulfilled to 
the entire satisfaction of your highness. 

' " Should any thing further transpire on this subjectj, 
I will give you the earliest information. 

^ " I remain, madam, with profound respect^ 
Your highness' most devoted, 
very humble servant, 
Richard Brinsley Sheridan,"* 

' M. de Calonne immediately received the king's man= 
date to resign the portfolio. The minister desired, that 
he might be allowed to give his resignation to the king 
himself. His request was granted. The queen was 
present at the interview. The work in question was 
produced. On beholding it, the minister nearly fainted. 
The king got up and left the room. The queen, who 
remained, told M. de Calonne, that his majesty had no 
further occasion for his services. He fell on his knees» 

* Madame Campan mentions in her work, that the queen hai 
informed her of the treachery of the minister, but did not enter 
into particulars, nor explain the mode or source of its detection. 
Notwithstanding the parties had bound themselves for the sums 
they received not to reprint the work, a second edition appeared 
a short time afterwards in London. This, which was again 
bought up by the French ambassador, was the same which was to 
have been burned by the king's command at the china manufac- 
tory at Sevres. 



CHAPTER XI. 177 

He was not allowed to speak, but was desired to leave 
Paris. 

' The dismissal and disgrace of M. de Calonne were 
scarcely known, before all Paris vociferated, that they 
were owing to the intrigues of the favourite, Poliguac, 
in consequence of his having refused to administer to 
her own superfluous extravagance, and the queen's re- 
peated demands on the treasury to satisfy the numerous 
dependants of the dutchess. 

*^This, however, was soon officially disproved by the 
exhibition of a written proposition of Calonne's to the 
queen, to supply an additional hundred thousand francs 
that year to her annual revenue, which her majesty re- 
fused. As for the Dutchess de P.olignac, so far from ha- 
ving caused the disgrace, she was not even aware of the 
circumstance from which it arose ; nor did the minister 
himself ever know, how, or by what agency, his falsehood 
Was so thoroughly unmasked.' 

Note. 

The work which is here spoken of, the queen kept as 
a. proof of the treachery of Calonne towards her and 
bis sovereign, till the storming of the Thuilleries, on the 
10th of August, 1792, when, with the rest of the papers 
and property plundered on that memorable occasion, it 
fell into the hands of the ferocious mob. 

M. de Calonne soon after left France for Italy. There 
he lived for some time in the palace of a particular friend 
of mine and the marquis, my husband, the Countess 
Francese Tressino, at Vicenza. 

In consequence of our going every season to take the 
mineral waters and use the baths at Valdagno, we had 
often occasion to be in company with M. de Calonne, both 
at Vicenza and Valdagno, where I must do him the jus- 

Z 



17S CHAPTER XI. 

tice to say he conducted himself with the greatest cir- 
cumspection in speaking of the revolution. 

Though he evidently avoided the topic which termi- 
nates this chapter, yet one day being closely pressed 
upon the subject, he said, forgeries were daily com- 
mitted on ministers, and were most particularly so in 
France at the period in question ; that he had borne the 
blame of various imprudencies neither authorized nor ex- 
ecuted by him ; that much had been done and supposed 
to have been done with his sanction, of which he had 
not the slightest knowledge. This he observed generally^ 
without specifying any express instance. 

He was then asked whether he did not consider him- 
self responsible for the mischief he occasioned, by de- 
claring the nation in a state of bankruptcy. He said^ 
^^ No, not in the least. There was no other way of pre- 
venting enormous sums from being daily lavished, as 
they then were, on herds of worthless beings ; that the 
queen had sought to cultivate a state of private domestic 
society, but that, in the attempt, she only warmed in her 
bosom domestic vipers, who fed on the vital spirit of her 
generosity.'' He mentioned no names. 

I then took the liberty of asking him his opinion of 
the Princess Lamballe. 

'* Oh, madam! had the rest of her majesty's numerous 
attendants possessed the tenth part of that unfortunate 
victim's virtues, her majesty would never have been led 
into the errors, w hich all France must deplore ! 

" I shall never forget her," continued he, ^^ the day 
I went to take leave of her. She was sitting on a sofa 
when I entered. On seeing me, she rose immediatelyo 
Before I could utter a syllable, ^ Sir,' said the princess^ 
* you are accused of being the queen's enemy. Acquit 
yourself of the foul deed imputed to you, and I shall be 



CHAPTER XI. 179 

happy to serve you as far as lies in my power. Till 
then, I must decline holding any communication with an 
individual thus situated. I am her friend, and cannot 
receive any one known to be otherwise.' 

^"^ There was something," added he, "so sublime so 
dignified, and altogether so firm, though mild, in her 
manner, that she appeared not to belong to a race of 
earthly beings !" 

Seeing the tears fall from his eyes, while he was thus 
eulogising her whose memory I shall ever venerate, I al- 
most forgave him the mischief of his imprudence, which 
led to her untimely end. I therefore carefully avoided 
wounding his few gray hairs and latter days, and left him 
still untold, that it was by her, of whom he thought so 
highly, that his uncontradicted treachery had been dis- 
covered. 



( 180 ) 



CHAPTER XIL 

Journal eon^znwei.— Archbishop of Sens made minister, dismiss- 
ed, and his effigy burned. — The queen imprudently patronises 
his relations.' — Mobs. — Dangerous unreserve of the queen. — • 
Apology for the Archbishop of Sens. — The queen forced to 
take a part in the government. — Meeting of the States-General. 
— Anonymous letter to the Princess Lamballe.— Significant 
visit of the Dutchess of Orleans.— Disastrous procession.— 
Barnave gives his opinion of public affairs to the Princess Lam- 
balle, who communicates with the queen. — Briberies by Orleans 
on the day of the procession. — He faints in the Assembly.^ — 
Neckar suspected of an understanding with him. — Is dismiss- 
ed — No communication on public business with the queen but 
through the Princess Lamballe. — -Political influence falsely 
ascribed to the Dutchess de Polignac. — Her unpopularity. — » 
Duke of Harcourt and the first dauphin. — Death of the first 
dauphin. — Cause of Harcourt's harsh treatment of Polignac.' — 
Second interview of Barnave with the Princess Lamballe.-— 
He solicits an audience of the queen, which is refused. — Dia- 
logue between Lamballe and the Prince de Conti. — Remarks 
on the Polignacs. — Marriage of Figaro, a political satire. 

^ Of the many instances in which the queen's exer- 
tions to serve those whom she conceived likely to benefit 
and to relieve the nation^ turned to the injury, not only 
of herself, but those whom she patronised, and the cause 
she would strengthen, one of the most unpopular was 
that of the promotion of Brienne, Archbishop of Sens, 
to the ministry. Her interest in his favour was entirely 
created by the Abbe Vermond, himself too superficial 
to pronounce upon any qualities, and especially such as 
were requisite for so high a station. By many, the 
ipartiality, which prompted Vermond to espouse the in-' 



CHAPTER XII. 181 

terests of the archbishop, was ascribed to the amiable 
sentiment of gratitude for the recommendation of that 
dignitary, by which Vermond himself first obtained his 
situation at court; but there were others, who have been 
deemed deeper in the secret, who impute it to the less 
honourable source of self-interest, to the mere spirit of 
ostentation, to the hope of its enabling him to bring 
about the destruction of the Polignacs. Be this as it 
may, the abbe well knew, that a minister, indebted for 
his elevation solely to the queen, would be supported by 
her to the last. 

^ This, unluckily, proved the case. Maria Antoinette 
persisted in upholding every act of Brienne, till his ig- 
norance and unpardonable blunders drew down the ge- 
neral indignation of the people against her majesty and 
her protege, with whom she was identified. The king 
had assented to the appointment with no other view than 
that of not being utterly isolated, and to show a respect 
for his consort's choice. But the incapable minister was 
presently compelled to retire, not only from office, but 
from Paris. Never was a minister more detested while 
in power, or a people more enthusiastically satisfied at 
his going out. His effigy was burned in every town of 
France, and the general illuminations and bonfires in the 
capital were accompanied by hooting and hissing the de- 
posed statesman to the barriers. 

'^The queen, prompted by the Abbe Vermond, even 
after Brienne*s dismission, gave him tokens of her royal 
munificence. Her majesty feared, that her acting other- 
wise to a minister, who had been honoured by her confi- 
dence, would operate as a check to prevent all men of 
celebrity from exposing their fortunes to so ungracious a 
return, for lending their best services to the state, which 
now stood in need of the most skilful pilots. Such were 
the motives assigned by her majesty herself to me, when 



182 CHAPTER Xlf, 

I took the liberty of expostulating with her respecting 
the dangers, which threatened herself and family, from 
this continued devotedness to a minister, against whom 
the nation had pronounced so strongly. I could not but 
applaud the delicacy of the feeling upon which her 
conduct had been grounded ; nor could I blame her, in 
my heart, for the uprightness of her principle, in show- 
ing, that what she had once undertaken should not be 
abandoned through female caprice. I told her majesty, 
that the system upon which she acted was praise-worthy; 
and that its application, in the present instance, would 
have been so, had the archbishop possessed as much ta- 
lent as he lacked ; but that now it was quite requisite for 
her to stop the public clamour, by renouncing her pro- 
tection of a man, who had so seriously endangered the 
public tranquillity and her own reputation.* 

' As a proof how far my caution was well founded, 
there was an immense riotous mob raised about this time 
against the queen, in consequence of her having appoiatr 
ed the dismissed minister's niece, Madame de Canisy, to 
a place at court, and having given her picture, set in 
diamonds, to the archbishop himself. 

^ The queen, in many cases, was by far too communi- 
cative to some of her household, who immediately divul- 
ged all they gathered from her unreserve. * How could 
these circumstances have transpired to the people, but 
from those nearest the person of her majesty, who, 
knowing the public feeling better than their royal mis- 

* The Princess Lamballe had no particularly shining talents ; 
but her understanding was sound, and she seldom gave her opin- 
ion without mature reflection, and never without being called upon, 
or when she distinctly foresaw the danger v*^hich must accrue from 
its being withheld. Would to Heaven, the queen had had -more 
advisers like her, who felt so little for herself, and so much for 
the welfare of her rojal mistress I 



CHAPTER XII. 183 

tress could be supposed to know it, did their own feeling 
little credit by the mischievous exposure. The people 
were exasperated beyond all conception. The Abbe 
Vermond placed before her majesty the consequences of 
her communicativeness, and from this time forward she 
never repeated the error. After the lesson she had re- 
ceived, none of her female attendants, not even the 
Dutchess de Polignac, to whom she would have confided 
her very existence, could, had they been ever so much 
disposed, have drawn any thing upon public matters 
from her. With me, as her superintendent, and enti- 
tled by my situation, to interrogate and give her counsel^ 
she was not, of course, under the same restriction. To 
his other representations of the consequences of the 
queen's indiscreet openness, the Abbe Vermond added, 
that being obliged to write all the letters, private and 
public, he often found himself greatly embarrassed by 
affairs having gone forth to the world beforehand. One 
misfortune of putting this seal upon the lips of her ma- 
jesty was, that it placed her more thoroughly in the 
abbe's power. She was, of course, obliged to rely im- 
plicitly upon him concerning many points, which, had 
they undergone the discussion necessarily resulting from 
free conversation, would have been shown to her under 
very different aspects. A man with a better heart, less 
Jesuitical, and not so much interested as Vermond was tD 
keep his place, would have been a safer monitor. 

' Though the Archbishop of Sens was so much hated 
and despised, much may be said in apology for his disas- 
ters. His unpopularity, and the queen's support of him 
against the people, was certainly a vital blow to the mo- 
narchy. There is no doubt of his having been a poop 
substitute for the great men, who had so gloriously beat- 
en the political paths of administration, particularly the 
Count 4e Vergennes and Neckar. But at that time, 



184 CHAPTER XII, 

when France was threatened by its great convulsion^ 
where is the genius, which might not have committed it- 
self? And here is a man coming to rule amidst revolu- 
tionary feelings, with no knowledge whatever of revolu- 
tionary principles ; a pilot steering into one harbour by 
the chart of another. I am by no means a vindicator of 
the archbishop's obstinacy, in offering himself a candidate 
for a situation entirely foreign to the occupations, habits^ 
and studies of his whole life ; but his intentions may have 
been good enough, and we must not charge the physician 
with murder, who has only mistaken the disease, and; 
though wrong in his judgment, has been zealous and con- 
scientious; nor must we blame the comedians for the 
faults of the comedy^ The errors were not so much in 
the men who did not succeed, as in the manners of the 
times. 

^ The part, which the queen was now openly compel- 
led to bear in the management of public affairs, increased 
the public feeling against her from dislike to hatred. 
Her majesty was unhappy, not only from the necessity 
which called her out of the sphere to which she thought 
lier sex ought to be confined, but from the divisions which 
existed in the royal family upon points, in which their 
common safety required a common scheme of action. 
Her favourite brother-in-law, D'Artois, had espoused 
the side of D'Orleans, and the popular party seemed to 
prevail against her even with the king. 

^ The various parliamentary assemblies, which had 
swept on their course, under various denominations, in 
rapid and stormy succession, were now followed by one^ 
which, like Aaron's rod, was to swallow up the rest. Its 
approach was regarded by the queen with ominous re- 
luctance. At length, however, the moment for the meet- 
ing of the States-General at Versailles arrived. Neckar 
was ODce more in favour, and a sort of forlorn hope of 



ClIAPTEll XUo 185 

better times dawned upon the perplexed monarchy, ia his 
anticipations from this assembly. 

^ The night before the procession of the instalment of 
the States-General was to take place, it being my duty 
to attend her majesty, I received an anonymous letter, 
cautioning me not to be seen that day by her side. I 
immediately went to the king's apartments and showed 
him the letter. His majesty humanely enjoined me to 
abide by its counsels. I told him I hoped he would for 
once permit me to exercise my own discretion ; for if my 
royal sovereign were in danger, it was then that her at- 
tendants should be most eager to rally round her, in or- 
der to watch over her safety and encourage her forti- 
tude. 

^ While we were thus occupied, the queen and my 
sister-in-law, the Dutchess of Orleans, entered the king's 
japartment, to settle some part of the etiquette respect- 
ing the procession. 

*■ " I wish,*' exclaimed the dutchess, <=' that this pro- 
cession were over ; or that it were never to take place ; 
or that none of us had to be there ; or else, being obli=> 
ged, that we had all passed, and were comfortably at 
home again." 

^ *<^ Its taking place," answered the queen, ^^ never 
li.ad my sanction, especially at Versailles. M. Neckar 
i-ppears to be in its favour, and answers for its success. 
I wish he may not be deceived ; but I much fear, that 
he is guided more by the mistaken hope of maintaining 
his own popularity by this impolitic meeting, than by 
any conscientious confidence in its advantage to the king's 
authority." 

^ The king, having in his hand the letter which I. had 
just brought him, presented it to the queen, 

' ^^ This, my dear dutchess," cried the queen, "comes 
from the Palais Royal raanufactopy, to poison tlievery 

A a 



186 CHAPTER Sir. 

iirst sentiments of delight at the union expected between 
the king and his subjects, by inuendos of the danger 
which must result from my being present at it. Look at 
the insidiousness of the thing ! Under a pretext of kind= 
iiessj cautions against the effect of their attachment are 
given to my most sincere and affectionate attendants, 
whose fidelity none dare attack openly. I am, however, 
rejoiced that Lamballe has been cautioned." 

i a Against what ?'' replied I« 

^ ^^ Against appearing in the procession," answered 
the queeno 

^ ^^ It is only," 1 exclaimed, ^^by putting me in the 
grave, they can ever withdraw me from your majesty* 
While I have life and your majesty^s sanction, force only 
will prevent me from doing my duty. Fifty thousand 
daggers, madam, were they all raised against me, would 
have no power to shake the firmness of my character, or 
the earnestness of my attachment. I pity the wretches 
who have so little penetration. Victim or no victim, no- 
thing shall ever induce me to quit your majesty.'^ 

^ The queen and the dutchess, both in tears, embraced 
me. After the dutchess had taken her leave, the king and 
queen hinted their suspicions, that she had been apprized 
of the letter, and had made this visit expressly to ob- 
serve what effect it had produced, well knowing at the 
time, that some attempt was meditated by the hired mob 
and purchased deputies already brought over to the Or- 
leans faction. Not that the slightest suspicion of collu- 
sion could ever be attached to the good Dutchess of Or- 
leans against the queen. The intentions of the dutchess 
were known to be as virtuous and pure as those of her 
husband's party were criminal and mischievous. Butj 
Ko doubt, she had intimations of the result intended | 
and, uBable to avert the storm or prevent its cause, had 
been instigated by her strong attachment to me^ as v/dl 



CHAPTER XII, 187 

as the paternal affection hep father, the Duke de Pen- 
thievre, bore me, to attempt to lessen the exasperation of 
the Palais Royal party and the duke, her husband, 
against me, by dissuading me from running any risk upon 
the occasion. 

'fThe next day, May 5, 1789, at the very moment 
when all the resources of nature and art seemed exhaust- 
ed to render the queen a paragon of loveliness beyond 
any thing I had ever before witnessed, even in her ; 
when every impartial eye was eager to behold and feast 
on that form whose beauty warmed every heart in her 
favour ; at that moment a horde of miscreants, just as she 
came within sight of the assembly, thundered in her ears, 
'^ Orleans for ever,^^ three or four times,* while she 
and the king were left to pass unheeded. Even the 
warning of the letter, from which she had reason to ex- 
pect some commotions, suggested to her imagination no- 
thing like this, and she was dreadfully shaken. I sprang 
forward to support her. The king's party, prepared for 
the attack, shouted •'^ Vive le roi! vive la reine P^ As I 
turned, I saw some of the members lividly pale, as if 
fearing their machinations had been discovered ; but, as 
they passed, they said in the hearing of her majesty, 
^^ Remember^ you are the daughter of Maria TheresaP 
— tfi True/^ answered the queen. The Duke de Biron, 
Orleans, La Fayette, Mirabeau, and the Mayor of Paris, 
seeing her majesty's emotion, came up, and were going 
to stop the procession. All, in apparent agitation, cried 
out " Halt P^ The queen, sternly looking at them, made 
a sign with her head to proceed, recovered herself, and 
moved forward in the train, with all the dignity and self 
possession, for which she was so eminently distinguished. 

* At that moment her loveliness received its blight. From the 
instant she heard that cry, lier severest sorrows and their eflects 
began. It proved her death cry. 



ISS CHAPTER XI t. 

• But tliis self command in public proved nearly fatal 
to lier majesty on her return to her apartment. There 
iier real feelings broke forth, and their violence was so 
great, as to cause the bracelets on her wrists, and the 
pearls in her necklace, to burst from the threads and 
settings, before her women aud the ladies in attendance 
could have time to take them oif. She remained many 
hours in a most alarming state of strong convulsions. 
Her clothes were obliged to be cut from her body, to 
give her ease; but as soon as she was undressed, and 
tears came to her relief, she Hew alternatively to the 
Princess Elizabeth and to myself; but we were both too 
much overvv'helmed to give her the consolation, of which 
she stood so much in need. 

* Barnave that very evening came to my private 
apartment, and tendered his services to the queen. He 
told me he wished her majesty to be convinced, that he 
was a Frenchman ; that he only desired his country 
might be governed by salutary laws, and not by the ca- 
price of weak sovereigns, or a vitiated, corrupt, minis- 
try s that the clergy and nobility ought to contribute to 
the wants of the state etjually with every other class of 
the king's subjects ; that when this was accomplished, 
and abuses were removed, by such a national representa- 
tion as would enable the minister, Neckar, to accomplisll' 
his plans for the liquidation of the national debt, I might 
assure her majesty, that both the king and herself would 
find themselves happier in a constitutional government, 
than they had ever yet been ; for such a goverament 
would set them free from ail dependence on the caprice 
of ministers, and lessen a responsibility, of which they 
now experienced the misery ; that if the king sincerely 
entered into the spirit of regenerating the French na- 
tion, he would find among the present representative^ 
many members of probity, loyal and honourable in tlteif 



CHAPTER XII, 189 

intentions, who would never become the destroyers of a 
limited legitimate monarchy, or the corrupt regicides of 
a rump parliament, such as brought the wayward Charles 
the First, of England, to the fatal block. 

< I attempted to relate the conversation to the queen. 
She listened with the greatest attention till I came to the 
part concerning the constitutional king, when her ma- 
jesty lost her patience, and prevented me from pro- 
ceeding.* 

^The expense of the insulting scene, which had so 
overcome her majesty, was five hundred thousand 
francs! This sum was paid by the agents of the Palais 
Royal, and, its execution entrusted principally to Mira- 
beau, Bailly, the mayor of Paris, and another indi- 
vidual, who was afterv/ards brought over to the court 
party. 

' The history of the assembly itself on the day follow- 
ing, the 6th of May, is too well known. The sudden 

* This, 3.nd other conversations, which will be found in subse- 
quent pages, will, prove, tliat Barnave's sentiments in favour of 
the royal family long preceded the affair at Vai-ennes, the begin- 
ning of which Madame Campan assigns to it. Indeed it must by 
this time be evident to the reader, that Madame Campan, though 
very con-ect in relating all she knew, with respect to the history 
of Maria Antoinette, was not in possession of matters foreign to 
her occupation about the person of the queen, and, in particular, 
that she could communicate little concerning those important in- 
trigues carried on respecting the different deputies of the first as- 
sembly, till, in the latter days of the revolution, when it became 
necessary, from the pressure of events, that she should be made a 
sort of confidante, in order to prevent her from compromising the 
persons of tlie queen and the Princess Lamballe : a trust, of her 
claim to which her undoubted fidelity was an ample pledge. Still. 
however, she was often absent from court at moments of great im- 
ppttance/ and was obliged to take her information, upon much 
Which slie has recorded, from hearsay, which has led her, as I have 
hefore Stated, into frequent mistakes. 



190 CHAPTER XII« 

perturbation of a guilty conscience which overcame the 
Duke of Orleans, seemed like an awful warning. He had 
scarcely commenced his inflammatory address to the as- 
sembly, when some one, who felt incommoded by the 
stifling heat of the hall, exclaimed, " Throw open the 
windows!" The conspirator fancied he heard in this 
his death sentence. He fainted, and was conducted 
home in the greatest agitation. Madame de Boufibn 
was at the Palais Royal when the duke was taken thither. 
The Dutchess of Orleans was at the palace of the Duke 
de Penthievre, her father, while the duke himself was 
at the hotel Thoulouse with me, where he was to dine, 
and where we were waiting for the dutchcss to come 
and join us, by appointment. But Madame de Bouffbn 
was so alarmed by the state in which she saw the Duke of 
Orleans, that she instantly left the Palais Royal, and des- 
patched his valet express to bring her thither. My 
sister-in-law sent an excuse to me for not coming to din- 
ner, and an explanation to her father for so abrupt}^ 
leaving his palace, and hastened home to her husband. 
It was some days before he recovered! and his father- 
in-law, his wife, and myself, were not without hopes>' 
that he would see in this an omen, to prevent him 
from persisting any longer in his opposition to the royal 
family. 

' The effects of the recall of the popular minister, 
Neckar, did not satisfy the king. Neckar soon became 
an object of suspicion to the court party, and especially 
to his majesty and the queen. He was known to have 
maintained an understanding with Orleans. The mis- 
carriage of many plans and the misfortunes which suc- 
ceeded were the result of this connexion, though it was 
openly disavowed. The first suspicion of the coalition 
arose thus. 

^ When the duke had his bust carried about Paris, af- 



CHAPTER XII, ''- 191 

ter his unworthy schemes against the king had been dis- 
covered, it was thrown into the mire. Neckar passing, 
perhaps by mere accident, stopped his carriage, and ex- 
pressing himself with some resentment for such treat- 
ment to a prince of the blood, and a friend of the peo- 
ple, ordered the bust to be taken to the Palais Royal, 
where it was washed, crowned with laurel, and thence, 
with Ncckar's own bust, carried to Versailles. The 
king's aunts coming from Bellervue as the procession 
was upon the road ordered the guards to send the men 
away who bore the busts, that the king and queen might 
not be insulted with the sight. This circumstance caused 
another riot, which was attributed to their majesties. 
■pphe dismission of the minister was the obvious result. 
It is certain, however, that, in obeying the mandate of 
exile, Neckar had no wish to exercise the advantage he 
possessed from his great popularity. His retirement was 
sudden and secret ; and although it was mentioned that 
very evening by the Baroness de Stael to the Count de 
Chinon, so little bustle was made about his withdrawing 
from France, that it was even stated at the time to have 
been utterly unknown even to his daughter. 

< Neckar himself ascribed his dismission to the in- 
fluence of the Pclignacs ; but he was totally mistaken, 
for the Dutchess de Polignac was the last person to have 
had any influence in matters of state, whatever might 
have been the case with those who surrounded her. She 
was devoid of ambition or capacity to give her weight; 
and the queen was not so pliant in points of high import, 
as to allow herself to be governed, or overruled, unless 
her mind was thoroughly convinced. In that respect, 
she was something like Catharine II. who always distin- 
guished her favourites from her ministers; but in the 
present case she had no choice, and was under the neces- 
sity of yielding to the boisterous voice of a faction. 



192 CHAPTER XII. 

^ From this epoch, I saw all the persons who had any 
wish to communicate with the queen on matters relative 
to the public business, and her majesty was generally 
present when they came, and received them in my apart- 
ments. The Dutchess de Polignac never, to my know- 
ledge, entered into any of these state questions ; yet there 
was no promotion in the civil, military, or ministerial de- 
partment, which she has not been charged with having 
influenced the queen to make, though there Were few of 
them who were not nominated by the king and his min- 
isters, even unknown to the queen herself. 

' The prevailing dissatisfaction against her majesty and 
the favourite Polignac now began to take so many forms^ 
and produce effects so dreadful, as to wring her own feel- 
ings, as well as those of her royal mistress, with the most 
intense anguish^, Let me mention one gross and barba- 
rous instance in proof of what I say. 

* After the birth of the queen's second son, the Duke 
of Normandy, who was afterwards dauphin, the Duke 
and Dutchess of Harcourt, outrageously jealous of the 
ascendancy of the governess of the dauphin, excited the 
young prince's hatred toward Madame de Polignac to 
such a pitch, that he would take nothing from her hands, 
but often, young as he was at the time, order her out of 
the apartment, and treat her remonstrances with the ut- 
most contempt. The dutchess bitterly complained of 
the Harcourts to the queen ; for she really sacrificed the 
whole of her time to the care and attention required by 
this young prince, and she did so from sincere attach- 
ment, and that he might not be irritated in his declining 
state of health. The queen was deeply hurt at these 
dissensions between the governor and governess. Her 
majesty endeavoured to pacify the mind of the young 
prince, by literally making herself a slave to his child= 
ish caprices, which in all probability v/oiild have created 



CHAPTER Xii. 193 

trie eonMenee so desired, when a most cruel, uuuatural, 
I may say diabolical report prevailed, to alienate the 
child's affections even from his mother, in making him 
believe, that owing to his deformity and growing ugli- 
ness, she had transferred all her tenderness to his young- 
er brother, who certainly was very superior in health 
and beauty to the puny dauphin. Making a pretext of 
this calumny, the governor of the heir apparent was ma- 
licious enough, to prohibit him from eating or drinking 
any thing, but what first passed through the hands of 
his physicians; and so strong was the impression made 
by this interdict on the mind of the young dauphin, that 
he never after saw the queen but with the greatest ter- 
ror. The feelings of his disconsolate parent may be 
more readily conceived than described. So may the 
mortification of his governess, the Dutchess de Polignac, 
herself so tender, so affectionate a mother. Fortunately 
for himself, and happily for his wretched parents, this 
ippyal youth, whose life, though short, had been so full 
of suffering, died at Versailles on the fourth of June; 
1789 ; and though only between seven and eight year? 
of age at the time of his decease, he had given proofs of 
intellectual precocity, which would probably have made 
continued life, amidst the scenes of wretchedness which 
succeeded, any thing to him but a blessing. 

' The cabals of the Duke of Harcourt, to which I 
have just adverted, against the Dutchess de PaiignaC;, 
were the mere result of foul malice and ambition. Har- 
court wished to get his wife, who wa^ the sworn enemy 
of Polignac, created governess Co the dauphin, instead 
of the queen's favourite. Mosc of the criminal stories 
against the Dutchess de Polignac, and which did equal 
injury to the queen, were fabricated by the Harcourts, 
for the purpose of excluding their rival from her situa- 
tion. 

Bb 



194 CHAPTER XII. 

• Bariiavcj meanwliile, continued faithful to his liberal 
principles^ but equally faithful to his desire of bringing 
their majesties over to those principles, and making them 
republican sovereigns. He lost no opportunity of avaiU 
ing himself of my permission, for him to call whenevei* 
he chose, on public business; and he continued to urge 
the same points, upon which he had before been so much 
in earnest, although with no better efiect. Both the king 
and queen looked with suspicion upon Barnave, and with 
still more suspicion upon his politics. 

^ The next time I received him, *^ Madam,'^ exclaimed 
the deputy to me, '^^ since our last interview I have poa-= 
dered well on the situation of the king ; and, as an honest 
Frenchman, attached to my lawful sovereign, and anxious 
for his future prosperous reign, I am decidedly of opin- 
ion, that his own safety, as well as the dignity of the 
crown of France, and the happiness of his subjects, can 
only be secured by his giving his country a constitution, 
which will at once place his establishment beyond the 
caprice and the tyranny of corrupt administrations, and 
secure hereafter the first monarchy in Europe from the 
][M)ssibility of sinking under weak princes, by whom the 
royal splendour of France has too often been debased 
into the mere tool of vicious and mercenary noblesse, and 
sycophantic courtiers. A king, protected by a constita- 
tion, can do no wi'ong. He is unshackled with responsi= 
bility. He is empowered with the comfort of exercising 
the executive authority for the benefit of the nation^ 
while all the harslier duties, and all the censures they 
create, devolve on others. It is, therefore, madamr, 
through your means, and the well known friendship you 
have ever evinced for the royal family, and the general 
welfare of the French nation, that I wish to obtain a pri- 
vate audience of her majesty, the queen, in order to in- 
duce her to exert the never failing ascendancy she has 



CHAPTER xri. 195 

ever possessed over the mind of our good king, in per- 
suading him to the sacrifice of a small proportion of his 
power, for the sake of preserving the monarchy to his 
heirs; and posterity will record the virtues of a prince, 
who has been magnanimous enough, of his own free will, 
to resign the unlawful part of his prerogatives, usurped 
by his predecessors, for the blessing and pleasure of giv- 
ing liberty to a beloved people, among whom both the 
king and queen will fi^nd many Hampdens and Sidneys, 
but very few Crom wells. Besides, madam, we must 
make a merit of necessity. The times are pregnant with 
events, and it is more prudent to support the palladium 
of the ancient monarchy, than risk its total overthrow; 
and fall it must, if the diseased excrescences, of which 
the people complain, and which threaten to carry death 
iftto the very heart of the tree, be not lopped away in 
time by the sovereign himself.'' 

^1 heard the deputy with the greatest attention. I 
promised to fulfil his commission. The better to exe- 
cute my task, I retired the moment he left me, and wrote 
down all I could recollect of his discourse, that it might 
be thoroughly placed before the queen the first opportu- 
nity. 

^ When I communicated the conversation to her ma- 
jesty, she listened with the most gracious condescension, 
till I came to the part wherein Barnave so forcibly im- 
pressed the necessity of adopting a constitutional monar- 
chy. Here, as she had done once before, when I repeat- 
ed some former observations of Barnave to her, Maria 
Antoinette somewhat lost her equanimity. She rose 
from her seat, and exclaimed : 

*"What! is an absolute prince, and the hereditary 
sovereign of the ancient monarchy of France, to become 
the tool of a plebian faction, who will, their point once 
gained; dethrone him for his imbecile complaisance? Do 



196 CIIAFTEE, xir. 

they wish to imitate the English revolution of 1648^ and 
reproduce the sanguinary times of the unfortunate and 
weak Charles the First? To make France a comaioag» 
wealth! Well! be it so! But before I advise the king to 
such a step, or give my consent to it, they shall bury me 
under the ruins of the monarchy!'' 

• ^^ But what answer," said I, " does your majesty 
wish me to return to the deputy's request for a private 
audience ?" ^ 

^iiWhut answer?" exclaimed the queen. "Noa# 
swer at all is the best answer to such a presumptuous 
proposition ! I tremble for the consequences of the im- 
pression their disloyal manoiuvres have made upon the 
minds of the people, and I have no faith whatever in 
their profered services to the king. Hov/ever, on re» 
flection, it may be expedient to temporise. Continue to 
see him. Learn, if possible, how far he may be trusted; 
but do not fix any time, as yet, for the desired audience. 
I wish to apprize the king, first, of his interview 'with 
you, princess. This eonversation does not agree with 
what he and Mirabeau proposed about the king's re- 
covering his prerogatives^ Are these the prerogatives 
with which he flattered the king ? Binding him hand 
and foot, and excluding him from every privilege, and 
then casting him a helpless dependant on the caprice of 
a volatile plebeian faction ! The French nation is very 
different from the English. The first rules of the 
established ancient order of the government broken 
through, they vfill violate twenty others, and the king 
will be sacrificed, before this frivolous people again or- 
ganise themselves with any sort of regular government.'^ 
*' Agreeably to her majesty's commands, I continued to 
see Barnave. 1 communicated with him by letter,* at 

* Of these letters I wa,s sen e rail v the bearer.. 



CHAPTER XII. 197 

his private lodgings at Passy, and at Vitry ; but it was 
long before tl\e queen could be brought to consent to the 
audience he solieited. 

'^ Indeed her majesty had such an aversion to all who 
had declared themselves for any innovation upon the ex- 
isting power of the monarchy, that she was very re- 
luctant to give audience upon the subject to any person, 
not even excepting the princes of the blood. The Count 
D'Artois himselfj leaning as he did to the popular side, 
had ceased to be welcome. Expressions he had made 
use of, concerning the necessity for some change, had oc- 
casioned the coolness, which was already of considerable 
standing. 

' One day the Prince of Conti came to me, to complain 
of the queen's refusing to receive him, because he had 
expressed himself to the same effect as had the Coutit 
D'Artois on the subject of the Tiers Etats.'-^ 

* I recollect that day perfectly. I was copying some letters 
for the Princess Lamballe when the Prince of Conti came in. 
The prince lived not only to see, but to feel the errors of his sys- 
tem. He attained a great age. He out-lived the glory of his 
country. Like many others, the first gleam of political regeuera- 
^Vion led him into a system, which drove liim out of France, to 
implore the shelter of a foreign asylum, that he might not fall a 
victim to his own credulity. I had an opportunity of witnessing 
in his latter days his sincere repentance j and to this it is fit that 
I should bear testimony. There were no bounds to the execration 
with which he expressed himself towards the murderers of those 
victims, whose death he lamented with a bitterness, in which some 
remorse was mingled, from the impression, that his own early er- 
rors in favour of the revolution had unintentionally accelerated 
their untimely end. This was a source to him of deep and per- 
petual self-reproach. 

There was an eccentricity in the appearance, dress, and man- 
ners of the Prince of Conti, which well deserves recording. 

He wore, to the very last, — and it was in Barcelona, so late as 
1803, that I last had the hononv of conversing; with him, — a white 



198 CHAPTER XIIo 

« " And does your highness/' replied I;, ^^ imagine 
that the queen is less displeased with the conduct of the 
Count D'Artois on that head^ than she is with you, 
prince ? I can assure your highness^ that at this moment 
there subsists a very great degree of coolness between 
her majesty and her royal brother-in-law, whom she 
loves as if he were her own brother. Though she makes 
every allowance for his political inexperience, and welf ' 



rich stuff dress frock coat, of the cut and fashion of Louis XIV. 
which, being without any collar, had buttons and button holes 
from the neck to the bottom of tlie skirt, and was padded and 
stiffened with buckram. The cuffs were very large, of a different 
colour, and turned up to the elbows. The whole was lined with,' 
white satin, which, from its being very much moth-eaten, appear- 
ed as if it had been dotted on purpose to show the buckram be- 
tween the satin lining. His waistcoat was of rich green striped 
silk, bound with gold lace ; the buttons and button holes of gold j 
the flaps very large, and completely covering his small clothes 5 
%vhich happened very apropos, for they scarcely reached his knees, 
over which he wore large striped silk stockings, that came half 
way up his thighs. His shoes had high heels, and reached half up 
his legs J the buckles were small, and set round with paste. A 
very narrow stiff stock decorated his neck. He carried a hat, 
with a white feather on the inside, under his arm. His ruffles 
were of very handsome point lace. His few gray hairs were 
gathered in a little round bag. The wig alone was wanting to 
make him a thorough picture of the polished age of the founder of 
Versailles and Marly. 

He had all that princely politeness of manner which so eminent- 
ly distinguished the old school of French nobility, previous to the 
revolution. He was the thorough gentleman, a character by no 
means so readily to be met with in these days of refineaient as 
one would imagine. He never addressed the softer se;£ but with 
ease, and elegance, and admiration of their persons. 

Could Louis XIV. have believed, had it been told to him when 
he placed this branch of the Bourbons on the throne of Iberia, 
that it would one day refuse to give shelter at the Court of Ma- 
drid to one of his family, for fear of offending a Corsican usui-perl 



CHAPTER XII. 199 

knows fclie goodness of his heart and the reetitude of his 
intentions, yet policy will not permit her to change her 
sentiments. 

^^ ^ That may be," said the prince, ^' but while her 
majesty continues to honour with her royal presence the 
Dutchess de Polignac, whose friends, as well as herself, 
are all enthusiastically mad in favour of the constitutional 
system, she shows an undue partiality, by countenancing 
one branch of the party and not the other ; particularly 
so, as the great and notorious leader of the opposition, 
which the queen frowns upon, is the sister-in-law of this 
very Dutchess de Polignac, and the avowed favourite of 
the Count D'Artois, by whom, and the councils of the 
Palais Royal, he is supposed to be totally governed iii his 
political career."' 

' ^^ The queen,*' replied I, ^^ is certainly her own 
mistress. She sees, I believe, many persons more from 
habit than any other motive ; to which, your highness is 
aware, many princes often make sacrifices. Your high- 
ness cannot suppose I can have the temerity to control 
her majesty in the selection of her friends, or in her sen= 
timents respecting them." 

* '^ No," exclaimed the prince, ^^ I imagine not. But 
she might just as well see any of us ; for we are no more 
enemies of the crown than the party she is cherishing by 
constantly appearing among them ; which, according to 
her avowed maxims concerning the not sanctioning any 
but supporters of the absolute monarchy, is in direct op- 
position to her own sentiments. 

' " Who," continued his highness, ^^ caused that in- 
fernal comedy. The Marriage of Figaro^ to be brought 
out, but the party of the Dutchess de Polignac* The 

* Note of the Princess Lamballe. — The Prince of Couti never 
could speak of Beaumarchais but with the greatest contempt. 



200 CHAPTER XII, 

play is a critique on the whole royal family, from the 
drawing up of the curtain to its fall. It burlesques the 
ways and manners of every individual connected with 
the court of Versailles. Not a scene but touches some of 
their characters. Are not the queen herself and the 
Count D'Artois lampooned and caricatured in the garden 
scenes^ and the most slanderous ridicule cast upon their 
innocent evening walks on the terrace ? Does not Beau- 
marchais plainly show in it, to every impartial eye, the 
means which the Countess Diana has taken publicly to 
demonstrate her jealousy of the queen's ascendency over 
the Count D'Artois ? Is it not from the same sentiment, 
that she has roused the jealousy of the Countess D'Ar- 
tois against her majesty ?" 

* " All these circumstances," observed I, ^^ the kiog 
prudently foresaw when he read the manuscript, and 
caused it to be read to the queen, to convince her of the 
nature of its characters, and the dangerous tendency like- 
ly to arise from its performance. Of this your highness 
is aware. It is not for me to apprize you, that, to avert 
the excitement inevitable from its being brought upon 
the stage, and under a thorough conviction of the mis- 
chief it would produce in turning the minds of the peo- 
ple against the queen, his majesty solemnly declared, that 
the comedy should not be performed in Paris ; and that 
he would never sanction its being brought before the 
public on any stage in France." 

There was something personal in this exasperation. Beaumarchais 
had satirized the prince. The Spanish Barber was founded on'^a 
circumstance, which happened, at a country liouse, between Conti 
and a young lady, during the reign of Louis XV, when intrigues 
of every kind were practised and almost sanctioned. The poet 
has exposed the prince by making him the Doctor Bartolo of his 
play. The aifair which supplied the story was hushed up at courtp 
and the prince was only punished by the loss of his mistress, who 
Jjecame the wife of anotherc 



GHAPTKll XII. 201 

^ " Bah ! bah ! madam," exclaimed Conti. ^' The 
queen has acted like a child in this affair, as in many 
others. In defiance of his majesty's determination, did 
not the queen herself, through the fatal influence of her 
favourite, whose party wearied her out by continued im- 
portunities, cause the king to revoke his express man- 
date ? And what has been the consequence of her majes- 
ty's ungovernable partiality for these Polignacs?" 

^ ^^ You know, prince," said I;, ^^ better than I do," 

^ " The proofs of its bad consequences," pursued his 
highness, ^' are more strongly verified than ever, by 
your own withdrawing from the queen's parties, since 
her unreserved acknowledgment of her partiality (fatal 
partiality !) for those who will be her ruin ; for they are 
her worst enemies." 

^ '' Pardon me, prince," answered I, ^^ I have n<?c 
withdrawn myself from the queen, but from the ^ew 
parties, with whose politics I cannot identify mys^^'fj be- 
sides some exceptions I have taken against tho^ who fre 
quent them," 

^ <^ Bah ! bah !" exclaimed Conti, ^-yonv sagacity har 
got the better of your curiosity, /^ll the wit and hu- 
mour of that traitor Beaumarchai^ never seduced you to 
cultivate his society, as all the *'est of the queen's party 
have done." 

^ " I never knew him to be accused of treason." 

< a Why, what do yau call a fellow, who sent arms to 
the Americans before the war was declared, without his 
sovereign's consent J^" 

^ " In that affair, I consider the ministers as criminal 
as himself ; for the queen, to this day, believes, that 
Beaumarchais was sanctioned by them ; and, you know, 
her majesty has ever since had an insuperable dislike Co 
both De Manrepas and De Vergennes. But I h.ive no- 
liiing to do wjdi these things.'^ 



202 CHAPTER XII. 

* " Yes, yes, I understand you, princess. Let her 
romp and play with the compate vous,* but who will 
compcttire-f (make allowance for) her folly. Bah ! bah '. 
She is inconsistent, princess. Not that I mean by this 
to insinuate, that the dutchess is not the sincere friend 
and well-wisher of the queen. Her immediate existence, 
her interest, and that of her family, are all dependant on 
the royal bounty. But can the dutchess answer for the 
same sincerity towards the queen, with respect to her in- 
numerable guests? No! Are not the sentiments of the 
dutchess' sister-in-law, the Countess Diana, in direct 
opposition to the absolute monarchy? Has she not always 
been an enthusiastic advocate for all those that have sup- 
ported the American war? Who was it that crowned at 
a public assembly the democratical straight hairs of Dr» 
franklin ? Why the same Madame Countess Diana ! Who 
wa^ capa turpa in applauding the men who were framing 
the American constitution at Paris? Madame Countess 
Diana ! ¥7ho was it in like manner, that opposed all the 
queen's arguwents against the political conduct of France 
and Spain, rela&ve to the war with England, in favour 
of the American ir^ependence? The Countess Diana! 
Not for the love of tli^t rising nation, or for the sacred 
cause of liberty; but fro^ a taste for notoriety, a spirit 
of envy and jealousy, an apprehension, lest the personal 
charms of the queen might ro^ her of a part of those af- 
fections, which she herself exclu^iively hoped to alienate 
from that abortion, the Countess D'Artois, in whose ser- 
vice she is maid of honour, and hand maid to the count. 
My dear princess, these are facts proved, Beaumarchais 
has delineated them all. Why then refuse to see me? 

- A kind of game of forfeits, introduced for the diversion of 
the royal children and those of the Dutchess d^ Polignac. 
t This play upon the words is imtranslateable. 



CHAPTER XII. 203 

Why withdraw her former confidence from the Count 
D'Artois, when she lives in the society which promul- 
gates anti- monarchical principles? These are sad evi- 
dences of her majesty's inconsistency. She might as 
well see the Duke of Orleans" — 

^ Here my feelings overwhelmed me. I could contain 
myself no longer. The tears gushed from my eyes : 

' " Oh, prince !" exclaimed I, in a bitter agony of 
grief — " Oh prince ! touch not that fatal string. For 
how many years has he not caused these briny tears of 
mine to flow from my burning eyes ! The scalding drops 
have nearly parched up the spring of life !" ^ 



( 2Q4 ) 



CHAPTER XIIL 

Journal continued.— The populace enraged at Neckar's dismissal. 
— Orleans. — Mobs. — Bastille destroyed. — Grief of the queen. 
' — Blames de Launay. — The king and his brothers go to the 
National Assembly. — Scene at the palace. — The queen presents 
herself to the people with her children. — Lamballe called for. 
—She appears. — Is threatened by an agent of Orleans in the 
crowd, and faints. — The queen proposes to go on horseback, in 
uniform, to join the army with her husband.— Prepares for her 
departure. — Her anguish on learning the king's resolution to go 
to Paris. — -He goes thither. — Receives the national cockade front 
Bailly. — Returns. — The queen's delight.—- The Polignacs, d'At^ 
tois, Conde, and others emigrate.^ — The troops withdrawn froiH 
Paris and Versailles. — Recall of Neckar. — General observations 
of the editor on the influence of the Polignacs, and its effect on 
the public feeling as to the queen. 

* The dismissal of M. Neckar irritated the people be- 
yond description. They looked upon themselves as in- 
sulted in their favourite. Mob succeeded mob, each 
more mischievous and daring than the former. The 
Duke of Orleans continued busy in his woi^k of secret 
destruction. In one of the popular risings, a sabre 
struck his bust, and its head fell, severed from its body. 
Many of the rioters (for the ignorant are always super- 
stitious) shrunk back at this omen of evil to their idol. 
His real friends endeavoured to deduce a salutary warn- 
ing to him from the circumstance. I was by wheii the 
Duke de Penthievre told him, in the presence of his 
daughter, that he might look upon this accident as pro- 
phetic of the fate of his own head, as well as the ri^ijn of 
his family, if he persisted^ He made no answer, biit left 
the room. 



CHAPTER XIII. 205 

<^0n the 14tli of July, and two or three days preced- 
ing, the commotions took a dej&nite object. The de- 
struction of the Bastille was the point proposed, and it 
was achieved. Arms were obtained from the old pen- 
sioners at the Hotel des Invalides. Fifty thousand livres 
were distributed among the chiefs of those who influen- 
ced th€ Invalides to give up the arms. 

' The massacre of the Marquis de Launay, command- 
ant of the place, and of M. de Flesselles, and the fall of 
the citadel itself, were the consequence. • 

^ Her majesty was greatly affected when she heard of 
the murder of these officers, and the taking of the Bas- 
tille. She frequently told me, that the horrid circum- 
stance originated in a diabolical court intrigue, but never 
explained the particulars of the intrigue. She declared^ 
that both the officers and the citadel might have been 
saved, had not the king's orders for the march of the 
troops from Versailles, and the environs of Paris, been 
disobeyed. She blamed the precipitation of de Launay, 
in ordering up the draw-bridge, and directing the few 
troops on it to fire upon the people. " There," she add- 
ed, ^' the marquis committed himself; as, in case of not 
succeeding, he could have no retreat, which every com- 
mander should take care to secure, before he allows the 
commencement of a general attack." -^ 

* Certainly, the French revolution may date its epoch as far 
back as the taking of the Bastille : from that moment the troubles 
progressively continued, till the final extirpation of its illustrious 
victims. 

I was just returning from a mission to England^ when the 

storms began to threaten not only the most violent effects to 

^France itself, but to all the land which was not divided from it by 

~^;he watery element. The spirit of liberty, as the vine, which 

"produces the most luxurious fruit, when abused, becomes the most 



206 CHAPTER XIII. 

<^ The death of the dauphin ; the horrible revohition 
of the 14th of July; the troubles about Neckar; the in- 
sults and threats offered to the Count D'Artois and her- 
self; overwhelmed the queen with the most poignant 
grief. 

< She was most desirous of some understanding being 
established between the government and the representa- 
tives of the people, which she urged upon the king the 
expediency of personally attempting. 

« The king, therefore, at her reiterated remonstrances 
and requests, presented himself, on the following day> 
with his brothers, to the National Assembly, to assure 
them of his firm determination to support the measures 
of the deputies, in every thing conducive to the general 
good of his subjects. As a proof of his intentions, he 
said he had commanded the troops to leave Paris and 
Versailles. 

^ The king left the assembly, as he had gone thither, 
on foot, amid the vociferations of ^^ Vive le roi !" and it • 
was only through the enthusiasm of the deputies, who 
thus hailed his majesty, and followed him in crowds to 
the palace, that the Count D'Artois escaped the fury of 
an outrageous mob. ' 



pernicious poison, was stalking abroad and revelling in blood and 
massacre. I myself was a witness to the enthusiastic national 
ball given on the ruins of the Bastille, while it was still stained 
and reeking with the hot blood of its late keeper, whose head I 
saw carried in triumph. Such was the effect on me, that the 
Princess Lamballe asked me if I had known the Marquis de 
Launay. I answered in the negative j but told her from the 
knowledge I had of the English revolution, I was fearful of a re- 
sult similar to what followed the fall of the heads of Buckingham 
and Stafford. The princess mentioning my observation to the 
Duke de Pen thievre, they both burst into tears. 



CHAPTER XIII. 207 

* The people filled every avenue of the palace, which 
vibrated with cries for the king, the queen, and the dau- 
phin, to show themselves at the balcony. 

^ " Send for the Dutchess de Polignac to bring the 
royal children," cried I to her majesty. 

^^ ' Not for the world !" exclaimed the queen. ^' She 
will be assassinated, and my children too, if she make 
her appearance before this infuriate mob. Let raadame 
and the dauphin be brought unaccompanied." 

^ The queen, on this occasion, imitated her imperial 
mother, Maria Theresa. She took the daughin in her 
arms, and madame by her side as that empress had done 
when she presented herself to the Hungarian magnates ; 
but the reception here was very different. It was not 
moriamur pro nostra regind. Not that they were ill 
received ; but the furious party of the Duke of Orleans 
often interrupted the cries of " Vive le roi! Vive, la 
reinCf'^ &c., with those of Vive la nation ! Vive d^O?^- 
Imns .'" and many severe remarks on the fomily of the 
Polignacs, which proved, that the queen's caution, on 
this occasion, was exceedingly well-judged. 

'^ Not to wound the feelings of the Dutchess de Polig- 
nac, I kept myself at a distance behind the queen ; but I 
was loudly called for by the mobility, and, malgre moi, 
was obliged, at the king and queen's request; to come 
forward. 

• As I approached the balcony, I perceived one of the 
well known agents of the Duke of Orleans, whom I had 
noticed some time before in the throng, menacing me, 
the moment I made my appearance, with his upreared 
hand in fury. I was greatly terrified, but suppressed 
my agitation, and saluted the populace ; but fearful of 
exhibiting my weakness in sight of the wretch who had 
alarmed me, withdrew instantly, and had no sooner re- 
entered than I -sunk motionless in the arms of one of the 



26s CHAPTER XIII. 

attendants. Luckily, this did not take place till I left 
the balcony. Had it been otherwise, the triumph to my 
declared enemies would have been too great.* 

* Recovering, I found myself surrounded by the royal 
family, who were all kindness and concern for my situa- 
tion : but I could not subdue my tremor and affright. 
The horrid image of that monster seemed still to threat- 
en me. 

^ ^^ Come, come V^ said the king, " be not alarmed. I 
shall order a council of all the ministers and deputies to- 
morrow, who will soon put an end to these riots l"t 

^ We were ere long joined by the Prince de Conde, 
the Duke de Bourbon, and others, who implored the 
king not to part with the army, but to place himself, 
with all the princes of the blood, at its head, as the only 
means to restore tranquillity to the country, and secure 
his own safety. 

* The queen was decidedly of the same opinion ; and 
added, that if the army were to depart, the king and Ms 
family ought to go with it: but the king, on the contrary, 
said he would not decide upon any measures whatever, 
till he had heard the opinion of the council. 

*The queen, notwithstanding the king's indecision, 
was occupied, during the rest of the day and the whole 
of the night, in preparing for her intended journey, as 
vshe hoped to persuade the king to follow the advice of 
the princes, and not wait the result of the next day's 
deliberation. Nay, so desirous was she of this, that she 
threw herself on her knees to the king, imploring him to 

* Heavens! who could have been that angel's enemy! 

t Poor, deluded prince! How often do we confound our wishes 
with the logic of circumstances I The horrid riots that succeeded 
have been so often described, as to render it unnecessary to sup- 
ply the hiatus of this journal by repeating the afflicting scenes 
wliich vera the congequencis. 



CHAPTEK xiir. 209 

leave Versailles and head the army, and offering to ac- 
company him herselfj on horseback, in uniform ; but it 
was like speaking to a corpse : he never answered. 

*' The Dutchess de Polignac came to her majesty in a 
state, of the greatest agitation, in consequence of M. de 
Chinon having just apprized her, that a most malicious 
report had been secretly spread among the deputies at 
Versailles, that they were all to be blown up at their 
next meeting. 

' The queen was as much surprised as the dutchess, 
and scarcely less agitated. These wretched friends 
could only, in silence, compare notes of their mutual 
cruel misfortunes. Both for a time remained speechless 
at this new calamity. Surely this was not wanting to be 
added to those by which the queen was already so bitter- 
ly oppressed. 

^ I was sent for by her majesty : Count Fersan ac- 
companied me. He had just communicated to me what 
the dutchess had already repeated from M. Chinon to 
the queen, 

^ The rumour had been set afloat merely as a new pre^ 
text for the continuation of the riots. 

•^The communication of the report, so likely to pro- 
duce a disastrous effect, took place while the king was 
with his ministers deliberating whether he should %o tf> 
Paris, or save himself and family by joining the army. 

*^ His majesty was called from the council to the 
queen's apartment, and was there made acquainted with 
the circumstance, which had so awakened the terror of 
the royal party. He calmly replied, ^* It is some days 
since this invention has been spread among the deputies ; 
I was aware of it from the first ; but from its being ut- 
terly impossible to be listened to, for a moment, by any 
one, I did not wish to afflict you by the mention of an 

Dd 



210 CHAPTER XIIlp 

impotent fabrication, which I myself treated with the 
contempt it justly merited. Nevertheless, I did not 
forgety yesterday, in the presence of both my brothers, 
who accompanied me to the National Assembly, there to 
exculpate myself from an imputation, at which my na- 
ture revolts ; and from the manner in which it was re- 
ceived, I flatter myself, that every honest Frenchman 
was fully satisfied that my religion will ever be an insur^ 
mountable barrier against my harbouring sentiments allied 
in the slightest degree to such actions." 

^The king embraced the queen, begged she would 
tranquillize herself, calmed the fears of the two ladies, 
thanked the gentlemen for the interest they took in his 
favour, and returned to the council, who, in his absence, 
had determined on his going to the Hotel de Ville at 
Paris, suggesting at the same time the names of several 
persons likely to be well received, if his majesty thought 
proper to allow of their accompanying him, 

^During this interval, the queen, still flattering herself 

that she should pursue her wished-for journey, ordered 

the carriages to be prepared and sent off to Rambouiilet, 

where she said she should sleep ; but this her majesty 

only stated for the purpose of distracting the attention 

of her pages and others about her from her real purpose. 

A.s It was well known, that M, de St. Priest had pointed. 

out Rambouillet as a fit asylum from the mob, she fan= 

cied, that an umderstanding on the part of her suit, 

that they were to halt there, and prepare for her re- 

eeption, would protect her project of proceeding much 

iarther. 

^ When the council had broken up, and the king re- 
turned, he said to the queen, " It is decided." 
^ <« To go, I hope ?'' said her majesty. 
« ^« No"»-'(though in appearance calm^ the words re- 



CHAPTER XIII. 211 

mained on the lips of the king, and he stood, for some 
moments, incapable of utterance ; but, recovering, add- 
ed) " To Paris /" 

^ The queen, at the word Paris, became frantic. She 
flung herself, wildly, into the arms of her fViends. 
*^ JVoiis sofnmes perdus ! nous sommes perdus /" cried 
she, in a passion of tears. But her dread was not for 
herself. She felt only for the danger to which the king 
was now going to expose himself ; and she flew to him, 
and hung on his neck. 

^ " And what," exclaimed she, '^is to become of all 
our faithful friends and attendants !" 

•^ ^' I advise them all," answered his majesty, " to 
make the best of their way out of France ; and that as 
soon as possible." 

^ By this time, the apartments of the queen were filled 
with the attendants and the royal children, anxiously ex- 
pecting every moment to receive the queen's command 
to proceed on their journey, but they were all ordered 
to retire to whence they came. 

^ The scene was that of a real tragedy. Nothing 
broke the silence but groans of the deepest affliction. 
Our consternation at the counter order cast all into a 
state of stupified insensibility. 

' The queen was the only one whose fortitude bore her 
up proudly under this weight of misfortunes. Recover- 
ing from the phrenzy of the first impression, she adjured 
her friends, by the love and obedience they had ever 
shown her and the king, to prepare immediately to fulfil 
his mandate and make themselves ready for the cruel 
separation ! 

* The Dutchess de Polignac and myself were, for some 
hours, in a state of agony and delirium. 

< When the queen saw the body-guards drawn up to 
accompany the king's departure^ she ran to the windoW; 



212 CHAPTER xni. 

threw apart the sash, and was going to Speak to them, to 
recommend the king to their care ; but the Count de 
Fersan prevented it„ 

^ ^* For God's sake, madam,'' exclaimed he, ^^ do not 
commit yourself to the suspicion of having any doubts of 
the people !" 

* When the king entered to take leave of her, and of 
all his most faithful attendants, he could only articulat^sj 
" Adieu !" But when the queen saw him accompanied 
by the Count d'Estaing and others, whom, from their 
new principles, she knew to be popular favourites, she 
had command enough of herself not to shed a tear in 
their presence. 

^ No sooner, however, had the king left the room, 
than it was as much as the Count de Fersan, Princess 
Elizabeth, and all of us, could do, to recover her from 
the most violent convulsionsa At last, coming to herself, 
she retired with the princess, the dutchess, and myself, 
to await the king's return ; at the same time requesting 
the Count de Fersan to follow his majesty to the Hotel 
de Ville. Again and again she implored the count, as 
she went, in case the king should be detained, to interest 
himself with all the foreign ministers to interpose for his 
liberation. 

' Versailles, when the king was gone, seemed like a 
eity deserted in consequence of the plague. The palace 
was completely abandoned. All the attendants were dis- 
persed. No one was seen in the streets. Terror pre- 
vailed. It was universally believed, that the king would 
be detained in Paris. The high road from Versailles to 
Paris was crowded with all ranks of people, as if to catch 
a last look of their sovereign. 

^ The Count de Fersan set off instantly, pursuant to 
the queen's desire. He saw all that passed, and, on his 
return, related to me the history of that horrid day. 



CHAPTER XIII. 213 

*' He arrived at Paris just in time to see his majesty 
take the national cockade from M. Bailly, and place it in 
his hat. He felt the Hotel de Ville shake with the long 
continued cries of Vive la I'oi, in consequence, which so 
affected the king, that, for some moments, he was unable 
to express himself. " I myself," added the count, 
^^ was so moved at the effect on his majesty, in being thus 
warmly received by his Parisian subjects, which pour- 
trayed the paternal emotions of his long lacerated heart, 
that every other feeling was paralysed for a moment, in 
exultation at the apparent unanimity between the sov- 
ereign and his people. But it did not," continued the 
ambassador, " paralyse the artful tongue of Bailly, the 
mayor of Paris. I could have kicked the fellow for his 
malignant impudence ; for even in the cunning compli- 
ment he framed, he studied to humble the afflicted mo- 
narch, by telling the people it was to them he owed the 
sovereign authority. 

' " But," pursued the count, " considering the situa- 
tion of Louis XVI. and that of his family, agonised as 
they must have been during his absence, from the 
queen's impression, that the Parisians would never again 
allow him to see Versailles, how great was our rapture 
when we saw him safely replaced in his carriage, and re- 
turning to those who were still lamenting him as lost ! 

^ " When I left her majesty in the morning, she was 
nearly in a state of mental aberration. When I saw her 
again in the evening, the king by her side, surrounded 
by her family, the princess Elizabeth, and yourself, ma- 
dam," said the kind count, ^^she appeared to me like a 
person risen from the dead, and restored to life. Her 
excess of joy at the first moment was beyond descrip- 
tion." 

' Count de Fersan might well say the first moment, 
fop the pleasure of the queen was of short duration. Her 



214 CHAPTER XIIIc 

heart was doomed to bleed afresh, when the thrill of de- 
light, at what she considered the escape of her husband^ 
was past, for she had already seen her chosen friend, the 
Dutches de Polignac, for the last time.^ 

' Her majesty was but just recovered from the effects of 
the morning's agitation, when the dutchess, the duke, his 
sister, and all his family set off. It was impossible for her 
to take leave of her friend. The hour was late — about 
midnight. At the same time departed the Count d'Artois 
and his family, the Prince of Conde and his, the Prin<jf 
of Hesse d'Armstadt, and all those who were likely to 
be suspected by the people. 

^Her majesty desired the Count de Fersan to see the 
dutchess in her name. When the king heard the re« 
quest, he exclaimed, 

^ " What a cruel state for sovereigns, my dear count ! 
To be compelled to separate ourselves from our most 
faithful attendants, and not be allowed, for fear of com- 
promising others or our own lives, to take a last faisf | 
well!" 

< " Ah!" said the queen, " I fear so too. I fear it is 
a last farewell to all our friends!" 

* The last, indeed 1 Little did the Princess Lamballe, when 
she wrote, conceive the full and prophetic extent of her phrase. 
At that time the dutchess was still living : but a little more than 
three years afterwards, the queen, the Princess Lamballe, and the 
dutchess herself, had all perished by untimely death. 

The manner of the death of the dutchess speaks friendship**- 
rare, indeed, except in poets' fancies! She was residing at the 
palace of the Prince Esterhazy, having been fortunate enough to 
escape from the torrent of blood then bursting over this horrid 
country, when informed, that her friend and sovereign had been 
beheaded. Though so long prepared by previous events, and 
previous murders of the royal family, for this fatal news, so 
great was the shock to her, that she gave but one shriek, and ex- 
pired! 



CHAPTER xiir. 215 I 

* The count saw the dutchess a few moments before 
she left Versailles. Pisani, the Venetian ambassador, and 
Count Fersan, helped her on the coach box, where she I 
E'ode disguised. 

^ What must have been most poignantly mortifying to I 
the fallen favourite was, that, in the course of her jour- 
ney, she met with her greatest enemy, Neckar, who was 
returning, triumphant, to Paris, called by the voice of 
that very nation, by whom she and her family were now 
forced from its territory: Neckar, who himself concei- 
ved, that she, who now went by him into exile, while he 
himself returned to the greatest of victories, had thwart- 
ed all his former plans of operation, and, from her influ» 
ence over the queen, had caused his dismission and tem- 
porary banishment. 

< For my own part I cannot but consider this sudden 
desertion of France by those nearest the throne, as ill 
judged. Had all the royal family remained is it likely, 
that the king and queen would have been watched with 
such despotic vigilance? Would not confidence have 
created confidence, and the breach have been less wide 
between the king and his people? 

^When the father and his family will now be tho- 
roughly reconciled, Heaven alone can tell!' 

Note, 
I cannot allow this portion of the Journal of the Prin-. 
cess Lamballe to pass from under my hands, without of- 
fering a few observations upon the intimacy, of which 
we have now seen the disastrous denouement, between 
her majesty and the Dutchess de Polignac. It will not, 
I trust, be deemed impertinent in me, to enlarge a little 
upon a circumstance, so important in its effects upon the 
queen's character with the nation, and so instrumental in 
producing the revolution itself, I must be understood 



216 CHAPTER XIII. 

as substantially describing the impressions of her high- 
ness upon these subjects^, confirmed by my own observa- 
tion. 

To this intimacy of the queen with the governess of 
her children may be referred the first direct blows at the 
royal dignity. It is a fact which cannot be denied, that 
however Maria Antoinette might have been beset by 
partial animadversions, the crown had never yet been 
shorn of its prerogatives, nor had any attempt been 
made upon them by democratic innovations, until the 
period of her majesty's connexion with the family of the 
the Polignacs. The spirit of national independence 
certainly made rapid strides from the moment of the ar- 
rival of the military from America. The enthusiasm 
with which all ranks hailed the return of La Fayette, no 
doubt promulgated the dangerous overthrow of absolute 
monarchy; but a constitutional one would have been 
firmly established, had not the primitive steps towards 
it met with a total opposition, while the queen herself 
encouraged the very system against which she protested, 
by being herself the first innovator, in abolishing the 
old customs of the court, and placing the provincial fa- 
mily of the new raised nobility of tlie Polignacs, in the 
situations of those, who, from their ancient stem, consi- 
dered themselves the exclusive palladium of absolute 
monarchy. The most powerful in the kingdom became, 
from that time, indifferent to the king, who showed so 
little hesitation in weakening his own authority by hum- 
bling the old aristocracy, for a new race, with no quar= 
tarings beyond their own, but that of favouritism. By 
remaining neutral, when a strong party was forging its 
thunderbolts, they left the throne exposed. Their uni- 
ted movement might have interposed a shield, which 
their disgust influenced them not even to attempt to 
rear= It is therefore evident^ how hostile the very heart 



CliAPTER XIII. 217 

of the court must have been to the power of a queen, 
.who valued merit above birth. These selfish and short 
sighted censors did not consider, that the grave tliey 
were digging for their royal mistress would be filled up 
by themselves, and that every blow, levelled at her ma- 
jesty or her favourites, shook the throne itself. 

It may be said, that Maria Antoinette, should have 
steadfastly "avoided the dangers that threatened the mon- 
archy ; yet when it is considered, how much she relied 
upon the authority of the Abbe Verraond to check, cor- 
rect, and counsel her inexperience, an authority so often 
fatal in its silence, her errors will be readily pardoned. 
They, alone, who had the power of preventing them, 
should bear the whole weight of the censure resulting 
from the consequences of their unpardonable apathy; 
and she will then appear in the eyes of an impartial 
world less guilty than her sworn enemies have endea- 
voured, hitherto, to represent her. In justice to the 
abbe it must be owned, that he attempted to check the 
evil ; but never till it had taken too deep a root. He 
should have prevented the extreme intimacy ; he knew 
the character of his royal pupil well enough to be aware, 
that, once formed, she would have conceived herself to 
be betraying a want of steadiness in her friendship, to 
have retracted any of the purposes to which it gave the 
impulse. 

The Duke of Dorset and Count Fersaa were perhaps 
the only person who could have taken the liberty of 
counselling her majesty at this crisis, without their mo- 
tives being exposed to misconstruction. Though they 
both were of the parties that constantly attended ^he 
drawing room of the dutchess, and es-teemtA her ai^J her 
family as private individuals, yet they, as well as many 
others of the queen's friends, vvere fully persuaded, tliat 
the vindictive spirit of all chose who became Jealous Of 

Ee 



218 CHAPTER XIII. 

her intimacy, and tlie higher orders of the nobiUtyjr 
who would not condescend to be put on a level with thf! 
new raised favourite, besides the other party whom she 
had been the means of excluding from a distinction, 
which they deemed their due, formed a host of disaffect- 
ed persons, ready to strike at the heart of those who 
caused their protracted humiliation. 

Crosses and ribbons are necessary in a monarchical go- 
vernment, and most essentially so in that of an absolute 
despotic one, as, in many cases, they enable the sovereign, 
to pay debts without money ; for the cross never crosses 
the king's treasury, nor is the ribbon taken from his 
purse strings. No provision of any consequence being 
added to the baubles, many a dirty crossing is trodden 
under foot, and many a ribbon tarnished by the rain, be- 
fore the knight who wears it arrives at the palace gate, 
to get his shoes blacked by the court shoe-black* But 
nothing weakens the sovereign power more than the su- 
perfluous aristocracy. Queen Elizabeth was so fully per- 
suaded of this, that she was the least lavish in that way 
of any sovereign that ever reigned. Perhaps to that 
very wisdom alone she owed the continuation of her unli- 
mited power and masculine sti'ength of government. She 
knew, that energies must be weakened by being scattered. 
A sovereign who creates a numerous aristocracy com- 
mits two substantial errors. First, he lessens his own 
dignity. Secondly, he alienates the affections of the 
bulk of his subjects. Every lord has his followers. This 
necessarily reduces the direct influence of the crownc 
What were even absolute sovereigns under the feudal 
sy\tem? subservient to their barons! so are they since to 
the ^aristocracy. The only difference produced by the 
differei>43e of the ages is, that a sovereign now has aa 
army at his own comKiand. But that army forms the 
smallest part of his giibjecis, True^ they owe their a!= 



CHAPTER XIII. 219 

legiance exclusively to their sovereign. So ought the 
sovereign to prefer the majority of his people to a cir- 
cumscribed number, who very often have little more me- 
rit than that of their birth, and who constitute the least 
respectable part of the community. Besides, the aris- 
tocracy which has no means of self-support is a degrada- 
tion to the institution, lessens its consequence, and sub- 
jects its members to the discretion of its inferiors, who, 
instead of being respected, often become the ridicule of 
their own domestics, from the daily shifts resorted to in 
their economy, to support an empty title; and fall into 
the power of their own tradesmen, and far below the le- 
vel of wealthy merchants. The titled gentry, who are 
obliged to walk on foot for the want of the means of sup- 
porting a carriage, are, vulgarly speaking, like a pud- 
ding without eggs, and cannot rise above the level. 

This vicious condescension, and, I may say, abuse of 
the royal power, was one of the many causes of the 
French revolution. It was, if I may be allowed the ex- 
pression, principally that supernumerous plebian aristo- 
cracy, who, jealous of the exclusive prerogatives of the 
higher classes of nobility, and wishing to humble them 
and share their immunities, shook the fabric to its foun» 
dation, were crushed themselves by its fall, and with iC 
buried the monarchy under the ruins of the nation I 

It is only necessary, in proof of the sound policy of 
this principle respecting the influence of an overflow of 
the hungry aristocracy, to refer to the primitive factions 
of the revolution. These will demonstrate, how very 
few of the ancient nobility were implicated in exciting 
attacks upon the royal authority, in comparison with the 
second orders. One only, maintained, for a short time, 
a degree of purchased popularity for a change ; and he 
wished only for a change of dynasty, which his father 
before him had vainly sought to establish in his own fa- 



220 CHAPTER XIII. 

mily; but the vices of the debauched court of Louis 
XV's. minority were by far too deeply implanted and pa- 
ramount, to excite any serious apprehension of a new or- 
der of things; because the very vices of the existing go- 
vernment established its authority : every thing was in 
character ; corruption was at its zenith in every branch 
of the administration : but when, in the court of Louis 
XVL virtue was feebly blended and interwoven with the 
old established vices, the former not vigorously enough 
enforced to support itself, and the latter weakened by 
contrast, when the two came in contact, the sovereign 
power was seen to fall ;— -as the rogue who turns honest 
loses his character even as a rogue, and never can acquire 
that of an honest man. Hence it is clear, that half mea- 
sures are the worst of measures, and sure to work their 
own ruin. 

To attempt to reform a court without radically reform- 
ing the courtiers was therefore an absurdity ; the proof of 
which has been written, in France, in characters of blood. 



( 221 ) 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Journal resumed. — Barnave's penitence. — Gives the queen a list 
of the Jacobins, who had emissaries in France to excite an in- 
surrection. — Their majesties insulted in the royal chapel, by 

those belonging to it appearing in the national uniform Nec- 

kar proposes to the queen the dismissal of the Abbe Vermond. 
— Her strange acquiescence. — La Fayette causes the guards of 
the palace of Versailles to desert and join the national guard. 
— Their majesties advised to fly to a place of safety. — Their 
feelings on Neckar's recommending the abolition of all privi- 
ledged distinctions. — A courier stopped with despatches from 
Prince Kaunitz.— Dumourier betrays to the queen the secret 
schemes of the Orleans' faction. — She peremptorily i-efuses his 
proffered services. — Loyalty of the officers of the Flanders Re- 
giment. — ^Effect of this on the national assembly. — Dinner given 
to this regiment by the body guards. — Military public breakfast. 
— Project to remove the king, and confine the queen in a dis- 
tant part of France. — Nefarious famine plot to excite the peo- 
ple against their sovereigns. 

^ Barnave often lamented his having been betrayed, 
by a love of notoriety, into many schemes, of which his 
impetuosity blinded him to the consequences. With 
tears in his eyes, he implored me to impress the queen's 
mind with the sad truths he inculcated. He said his mo- 
tives had been uniformly the same, however he might 
have erred in carrying them into action ; but now he re- 
lied on my friendship for my royal mistress to give effi- 
cacy to his earnest desire to atone for those faults, of 
which he had become convinced by dear bought experi- 
encc. He gave me a list of names* for her majesty, in 

-^ A few hours after one of her interviews with Barnave, the 
Princess Laraballe gave me this list to copy, without assigning any 



223 CHAPTER XIV. 

which were specified all the jacobins who had emissaries 
throughout France, for the purpose of creating on the 
same day, and at the same hour, an alarm of something 
like the Vesparo Siciliano (a general insurrection to 
murder all the nobility and burn their palaces, which, in 
fact, took place in many parts of France,) the object of 
which was to give the assembly, by whom all the regular 
troops were disbanded, a pretext for arming the people 
as a national guard, thus creating a perpetual national 
faction.* 

^ The hordes of every fauxbourg now paraded in this 
new democratic livery. Even some of them, who were 
in the actual service of the court, made no scruple of de- 
corating themselves thus, in the very face of their sov- 
ereign. The king complained, but the answer made to 
him was, that the nation commanded. 

' The very first time their majesties went to the royal 
chapel, after the embodying of the troops with the na- 
tional guards, all the persons belonging to it were ac- 
coutred in the national uniform. The queen was highly 
incensed, and deeply affected, at this insult, offered to 
the king's authority by the persons employed in the sa- 
cred occupations of the church. " Such persons,'^ said 

reason. I made the copy. Her highness then ordered me to take 
the original to the Benedictins Mnglais. She told me I should 
there find, near the tomb of the late Suards, a friar, who would 
be making a drawing of some saint in the church. To this friar 
the paper was to be delivered. I went to the spot, found the 
friar, and gave him the paper. 

* This horrible operation cost six hundred thousand francs 1 
Mirabeau was the paymaster general, and Orleans the banker. 
Thousands of wretches from all parts of France received, daily^ 
from five francs to a louis and upwards, for the outrage and plun- 
der of all those opposing the popularity of the duke, who, while 
stooping to mix with the lowest class of society, had no other 
view than that of dethroning the king, and ruling in his steads 



CHAPTER XIV. 223 

her majesty, " would, I had hoped, have been the last 
to interfere with politics." She was about to order all 
those, who preferred their uniforms to their employ- 
ments, to be discharged from the king's service ; but my 
advice, coupled with that of Barnave, dissuaded her from 
executing so dangerous a threat. On being assured, that 
those, perhaps, who might be selected, to replace the of- 
fenders, might refuse the service, if not allowed the same 
ridiculous prerogatives, and thus expose their royal ma- 
jesties to double mortification, the queen seemed satisfied, 
and no more was said upon the subject, except to an Ita- 
lian soprano, to whom the king signified his displeasure, 
at his singing a salva regina in the dress of a grenadier 
of the new faction. The singer took the hint, and never 
again intruded his uniform into the chapel. 

* Neckar, notwithstanding the enthusiasm his return 
produced upon the people, felt mortified, in having lost 
the confidence of the king. He came to nie, exclaim- 
ing, that unless their majesties distinguished him by some 
mark of their royal favour, his influence must be lost with 
the national assembly. He perceived, he said, that the 
councils of the king were more governed by the advice 
of the queen's favourite, the Abbe Vermond, than by 
his (Neckar's.) He begged I would assure her majesty, 
that Vermond was quite as obnoxious to the people as the 
Dutchess de Polignac had ever been ; for it was general- 
ly known, that her majesty was completely guided by 
him, and, therefore, for her own safety, and the tranquil- 
lity of national affairs, he humbly suggested the prudence 
of sending him from the court, at least, for a time. 

* I was petrified, at hearing a minister dare presume 
thus to dictate the line of conduct, which the queen of 
France, his sovereign, should pursue, with respect to her 
most private servants. Such was my indignation at this 



224 CHAPTER XIV, 

cruel wish, to dismiss every object of her choice^ espe- 
cially one, from whom, owing to long habits of intimacy 
since her childhood, a separation would be rendered, by 
her present situation, peculiarly cruel, that nothing but 
the circumstances in which the court then stood could 
have given me patience to listen to him. 

^ I made no answer. Upon my silence, Neckar sub- 
joined, ^' you must perceive, princess, that I am actua- 
ted for the general good of the nation." 

^ (' And I hope, sir, for the prerogatives of the mon- 
archy also," replied I. 

^ " Certainly," said Neckar. " But if their majesties 
continue to be guided by others, and will not follow my 
advice, I cannot answer for the consequences." 

^ I assured the minister, that I would be the faithful 
bearer of his commission, however unpleasant. 

< Knowing the character of the queen, in not much 
relishing being dictated to, with respect to her conduct 
in relation to the persons of her household, especially 
the Abbe Vermond, and aware, at the same time, of 
her dislike to Neckar, who thus undertook to be her 
director, I felt rather awkward in being the medium of 
the minister's suggestions. But what was my surprise, 
on finding her prepared, and totally indifferent as to the 
privation, 

< " I foresaw," replied her majesty, *•' that Vermond 
would become odious to the present order of things, 
merely because he had been a faithful servant, and long 
attached to my interest ; but you may tell M. Neckar, 
that the abbe leaves Versailles, this very" night, by my 
express order, for Vienna." 

< If the proposal of Neckar astonished me, the queen's 
reception of it astonished me still more. What a lesson 
is this for royal favourites ! The man who had been her 



CHAPTER XIY. 225 

tutor, and who, almost from her childhood, never left her, 
the constant confident for fifteen or sixteen years, was 
now sent off without a seeming regret. 

* I doubt not, however, that the queen had some very 
powerful secret motive for the sudden change in her con- 
duct towards the abbe, for she was ever just in all her 
concerns, even to her avowed enemies; but I was hap- 
py, that she seemed to express no particular regret at 
the minister's suggested policy. I presume, from the 
result, that I myself had overrated the influence of the 
abbe over the mind of his royal pupil ; that he had by 
no means the sway imputed to him ; and that Maria An- 
toinette merely considered him as the necessary instru- 
ment of her private correspondence, which he had wholly 
managed.* 

^ But a circumstance presently occurred, which arous- 
ed her majesty from this calmness, and indifference» 
The king came to inform her, that La Fayette, during 
the night, had caused the guards to desert from the 
palace of Versailles. 

^ The efiPect on her of this intelligence was like the 
lightning which precedes a loud clap of thunder. Every 
thing that followed was perfectly in character, and shook 
every nerve of the royal authority. 

^ " Thus,'' exclaimed Maria Antoinette, ''" thus, sire, 
have you humiliated yourself, in condescending to go to 
Paris, without having accomplished the object. You 
have not regained the confidence of your subjectSc Oh^ 
how bitterly do I deplore the loss of that confidence ! It 
exists no longer. Alas! when, will it be restored!'' 

^ The French guards, indeed, had been in open in- 

* The truth is, her majesty had already taken leave of the abbe, 
in the presence of the king, unknown to the princess, or more pro- 
perly the abbe had taken an affectionate leave of thera» 

Ff 



226 CHAPTER XIV. 

surrectioii through the months of June and July, and all 
that could be done was to preserve one single company 
of grenadiers, by means of their commander, the Baron 
de Leval, faithful to their colours. This company had 
now been influenced by General La Fayette, to desert 
and join their companions, who had enrolled themselves 
in the Paris national guard. 

Messieurs de Bouille and Luxemburg being interro- 
gated by the queen respecting the spirit of the troops 
under their immediate command, M. de Bouille, answer- 
ed, ^^ Madam, I should be very sorry to be compelled to 
undertake any internal operation with men, who have 
been seduced from their allegiance, and are daily paid 
by a faction, which aims at the overthrow of its legiti- 
mate sovereign » I would not answer for a man, that 
has been in the neighbourhood of the seditious national 
troops, or that has read the inflammatory discussions of 
the national assembly. If your majesty and the king 
wish well to the nation,™! am sorry to say it,— its hap- 
piness depends on your quitting immediately the scenes 
of riot, and placing yourselves in a situation, to treat 
with the national assembly on equal terms, whereby the 
king may be unbiassed and unfettered by a compulsive^ 
overbearing mob ; and this can only be achieved, by 
your flying to a place of safety. That you may find such 
a place, I will answer with my life!" 

^^^Ycs,'"' said M. de Luxemburg, ^*I think we may 
both safely answer, that, in such a case, you will find a 
few Frenchmen ready to risk a little to save all!" And 
both concurred, that there was no hope of salvation for 
the king or country, but through the resolution they ad- 
vised. 

'^ ^* This," said the queen, " will be a very difficult 
task. His inajestyj I fear, will never consent to leave 
France »" 



CHAPTER XIV. 227 

^ ^^ Then, madame," replied they, "^ we can only re- 
gret, that we have nothing to offer, but our own perse- 
verance in the love and service of our king and his 
oppressed family, to whom we deplore we can now be 
useful only with our feeble wishes." 

^ " Well gentlemen," answered her majesty, ^^ you 
must not despair of better prospects. I will take an 
early opportunity of communicating your loyal sentiments 
to the king, and will hear his opinion on the subject, be- 
fore I give you a definitive answer. I thank you, in the 
name of his majesty, as well as on my own account, for 
your good intentions towards us." 

^ Scarcely had these gentlemen left the palace, when 
a report prevailed, that the king, his family, and minis- 
ters, were about to withdraw to some fortified situation. 
It was also industriously rumoured, that as soon as they 
were in safety, the national assembly would be forcibly 
dismissed, as the parliament had been by Louis XIV. 
The reports gained universal belief when it became 
known, that the king had ordered the Flanders regiments 
to Versailles. 

^ The National Assembly now daily watched the royal 
power more and more assiduously. New sacrifices of 
the prerogatives of the nobles were incessantly proposed 
by them to the king, 

^ When his majesty told the queen, that he had been 
advised by Neckar, to sanction the abolition of the pri- 
vileged nobility, and that all distinctions, except the or- 
der of the Holy Ghost to himself and the dauphin, were 
also annihilated by the assembly, even to the order of 
Maria Theresa, which she could no longer wear, — 
'* These, sire," answered she, in extreme anguish, ^^ are 
trifles, so far as they regard myself. I do not think I 
have twice worn the order of Maria Theresa since my 
arrival in this once happy country. I need it not. The 



228 CHAPTER XIV. 

immortal memory of her, who gave me being, is en- 
graven on my heart; that I shall wear for ever; none 
can wrest it from me. But what grieves me to the soul 
is your having sanctioned these decrees of the national 
assembly, upon the mere ipse dixit of M. Neckar." 

^ " I have only given my sanction to such as I thought 
most necessary to tranquillise the minds of those who 
doubted my sincerity; but I have withheld it from oth- 
ers, which, for the good of my people, require raaturer 
consideration. On these, in a full council, and in your 
presence, I shall again deliberate." 

^ ^^ Oh,^' said the queen, with tears in her eyes, 
^^ could but the people hear you, and know, once for all? 
how to appreciate the goodness of your heart, as I do 
now, they would cast themselves at your feet, and sup- 
plicate your forgiveness for having shown such ingrati- 
tude to your paternal interest for their welfare !" 

^ But this unfortunate refusal, to sanction all the decrees 
sent by the national assembly, though it preceded from 
the best motives, produced the w^orst effects. Dupont, 
Lameth, and Barnave, well knew the troubles such a 
course must create. Of this they forewarned his majes- 
ty, before any measure was laid before him for approval. 
They cautioned him not to trifle with the deputies. 
They assured him, that half measures would only rouse 
suspicion. They enforced the necessity of uniform as- 
sentation, in order to lull the Mirabeau party, who were 
canvassing for a majority to set up Orleans, to whose in- 
terest Mirabeau and his myrmidons were then devoted. 
The scheme of Dupont, Lameth, and Barnave, was to 
thwart and weaken the Mirabeau and Orleans faction, by 
gradually persuading them, in consequence of the king's 
compliance with whatever the assembly exacted, that 
they could do no better than let him into a share of the 
executive power: for now nothing was left to his majes- 



CHAPTER XIV, 229 

ty but responsibility, while the privileges of grace and 
justice had become merely nominal, with the one danger- 
ous exception of the veto, to which he could never have 
recourse, without imminent peril to his cause and to 
himself. 

* Unfortunately for his majesty's interest, he was too 
scrupulous to act, even through momentary policy, dis- 
tinctly against his conscience. When he gave way, it 
was with reluctance, and often with an avowal, more or 
less express, that he only complied with necessity against 
conviction. His very sincerity made him appear the re- 
verse. His adherents consequently dwindled, while the 
Orleans faction became immeasurably augmented. 

' In the midst of these perplexities, an Austrian cou- 
rier was stopped with despatches from Prince Kaunitz. 
These, though unsought for on the part of her majesty, 
though they contained a friendly advice to her to submit 
to the circumstances of the times, and though luckily, 
they were couched in terms favourable to the constitu- 
tion, showed the mob, that there was a correspondence 
with Vienna, carried on by the queen, and neither Aus- 
tria nor the queen were deemed the friends either of the 
people or of the constitution. To have received the let- 
ters was enough for the faction. 

^ Affairs were now ripening gradually into something 
like a crisis, when the Flanders regiment arrived. The 
note of preparation had been sounded. ^^ Let us go to 
Versailles, and bring the king away from his evil coun- 
sellors," was already in the mouths of the Parisians. 

^ In the meantime, Dumourier, who had been leagued 
with the Orleans faction, became disgusted with it. He 
knew the deep schemes of treason which were in train 
against the royal family, and in disguise sought the queen 
at Versailles, and had an interview with her majesty in 
my presence. He assured her^ that an abominable in- 



230 CHAPTER XlVe 

surrection was ripe for explosion among the mobs of the 
fauxbourgs ; gave her the names of the leaders, who had 
received money to promote its organization ; and warned 
her, that the massacre of the royal family was the object 
of the manoeuvre, for the purpose of declaring the Duke 
of Orleans the constitutional king; that he was to be 
proclaimed by Mirabeau, who had already received a 
considerable sum in advance, for distribution among the 
populace, to ensure their support ; and that Mirabeau in 
return for his co-operation, was to be created a duke, 
with the office of prime minister and secretary of state, 
and to have the framing of the constitution, which was 
to be modelled from that of Great Britain. It was far- 
ther concerted, that D'Orleans was to show himself in 
the midst of the confusion, and the crown to be confer- 
red upon him by public acclamation. 

On his knees, Dumourier implored her majesty, to re- 
gard his voluntary discovery of this infamous and diabo- 
lical plot as a proof of his sincere repentance. He de- 
clared he came disinterestedly to oifer himself as a sacri- 
fice, to save her, the king, and her family, from the 
horrors then threatening their lives, from the violence of 
an outrageous mob of regicides ; he called God to wit- 
ness, that he was actuated by no other wish, than to 
atone for his error, and die in their defence : he looked 
for no reward beyond the king's forgiveness of his having 
joined the Orleans faction ; he never had any view in 
joining that faction, but that of aiding the duke, for the 
good of his country, in the reform of ministerial abuses, 
and strengthening the royal authority, by the salutary 
laws of the National Assembly; but he no sooner dis- 
covered, that impure schemes of personal aggrandise- 
ment gave the real impulse to these pretended refor- 
mers, than he forsook their unholy course. He 
supplicated her majesty, to lose no time, but to allow 



CHAPTER XIV. 231 

him to save her from the destruction, to which she would 
inevitably be exposed ; that he was ready to throw him- 
self at the king's feet, to implore his forgiveness also, 
and to assure him of his profound penitence, and his de- 
termination, to renounce for ever the factious Orleans 
party. 

^ As her majesty would not see any of those who of- 
fered themselves, except in my presence, I availed my- 
self, in this instance, of the opportunity it gave me, by 
enforcing the arguments of Dumourier. But all I could 
say, all the earnest representations to be deduced from 
this critical crisis, could not prevail with her, even so far 
as to persuade her to temporise with Dumourier, as she 
had done with many others on similar occasions. She 
was deaf and inexorable. She treated all he had said as 
the effusion of an overheated imagination, and told him 
she had no faith in traitors. Dumourier remained upon 
his keees while she was replying, as if stupified ; but at 
the word traitor, he started, and roused himself ; and 
then, in a state almost of madness, seized the queen's 
dress, exclaiming, <' Allow yourself to be persuaded be- 
fore it is too late! Let not your misguided prejudice 
against me hurry you to your own and your children's 
destruction : let it not get the better, madam, of your 
good sense and reason : the fatal moment is near ; it is 
at hand 1" Upon this, turning, he addressed himself to 
me. 

<' " Oh princess," he cried, " be her guardian angel, 
as you have hitherto been her only friend, and use your 
never failing influence. I take God once more to wit- 
ness, that I am sincere in all I have said ; that all I have 
disclosed is true. This will be the last time I shall have 
it in my power to be of any essential service to you, ma- 
dam, and my sovereign. The National Assembly will 



232 CHAPTER xiy. 

put it out of my power for the future, without becom° 
ing a traitor to my country." 

^ '< Rise, sir," said the queen, ^^ and serve your coun- 
try better than you have served your king !" 

^ « Madam, I obey."— 

^ When he was about to leave the room, I again, with 
tears, besought her majesty not to let him depart thus, 
but to give him some hope, that, after reflection, she 
might perhaps endeavour to sooth the king's anger. But 
in vain. He withdrew very much aifected.* I even 
ventured, after his departure, to intercede for his recall. 

^ ii He has pledged himself," said I, ^^ to save you, 
madam!" 

^ " My dear princess," replied the queen, ^^ the 
goodness of your own heart will not allow you to have 
sinister ideas of others. This man is like all of the same 
stamp. They are all traitors ; and will only hurry us the 
sooner, if we suifer ourselves to be deceived by them, to 
an ignominious death ! I seek no safety for myself." 

^ '' But he offered to serve the king also, madam." 

^ « I am not," answered her majesty, *^ Henrietta of 
France, I will never stoop to ask a pension of the mur- 
derers of my husband ; nor will I leave the king, my 
son, or my adopted country, or ever meanly owe my ex- 
istence to wretches, who have destroyed the dignity of 

* I saw him, as he left the apartment, but had no idea, at the 
time, who he was. He was a little, thin man. He wore a high, 
quaker like, round, slouched hat. He was covered down to the 
very shoes by a great coat. This, I imagine, was for the sake of 
disguise. I sa%v him put a handkerchief to his eyes. I met him 
some time after at Hamburg, and I am confident, that all his in= 
tended operations in the royal cause were given up in conse- 
quence of the exasperation he felt at the queen's rejection of liig 
services, though he continued to correspond with the princess foy 
a considerable time subsequently to the interviewa 



oriAFTKii XIV. ^S6 

the crown, and trampled under foot the most ancient 
monarchy in Europe ! Under its ruins they will bury 
their king and myself. To owe our safety to them 
would be more hateful than any death they can prepare 
for us," 

^ While the queen was in this state of agitation, a note 
was presented to me with a list of the names of the offi- 
cers of the Flanders regiment, requesting the honour of 
an audience of the queen. 

^ The very idea of seeing the Flanders officers flushed 
her majesty's countenance with an ecstasy of joy. 

^ She said she would retire to compose herself, and re- 
ceive them in two hours. 

^ The queen saw the officers in her private cabinet, 
and in my presence. They were presented to her by 
me. They told her majesty, that though they had 
changed their paymaster, they had not changed their al- 
legiance to their sovereign or herself, but were ready to 
defend both with their lives. They placed one hand on 
the hilt of their swords, and solemnly lifting the other 
up to heaven, sw^ore, that the weapons should never be 
wielded but for the defence of the king and queen, against 
all foes, whether foreign or domestic. 

• This unexpected loyalty burst on us like the beaute- 
ous rainbow after a tempest, by the dawn of which we 
are taught to believe the world is saved from a second 
deluge.1 

• The countenance of her majesty brightened over the 
gloom, which had oppressed her, like the heavenly sun 
dispersing threatening clouds, and making the heart of 
the poor mariner bound with joy. Her eyes spoke her 
secret rapture. It was evident she felt everi unusual dig- 
nity in the presence of these noble hearted warriors, 
when comparing them with him whom she had just dis- 
missed. She graciously condescended to speak to every 

Gg 



234 CHAPTER XIVc 

one of tliem, and one and ali were enchanted with her 
affability. 

'•' She said she was no longer the queen who could com- 
pensate loyalty and valour ; but the brave soldier found 
his reward in the fidelity of his service, which formed 
the glory of his immortality. She assured them she had 
ever been attached to the army, and would make it her 
study to t'ccomraend every individual, meriting attention, 
to the king. 

^ Loud bursts of repeated acclamations and shouts of 
^•' Vive la rcineP^ instantly followed her remarks. She 
thanked the officers most graciously , and fearing to com- 
mit herself, by saying more, took her leave, attended by 
me ; but immediately sent me back, to thank them again 
in her name. 

*>' They departed, shouting as they went, ^* Vive la 
reine I Vive la princesse I Vive le roi* le dauphin, et 
toute la famille royale /" 

^ When the National Assembly saw the officers going 
to and coming from the king's palace with such demon- 
strations of enthusiasm, they took alarm, and the regicide 
faction hastened on the crisis for which it had been long- 
ing. It was by no means unusual for the chiefs of regi- 
ments, destined to form part of the garrison of a royal 
residence, to be received by the sovereign on their arri- 
val, and certainly only natural, that they should be so ; 
but in times of excitement, trifling events have powerful 
effects. 

^ But if the National Assembly began to tremble for 
their own safety, and had already taken secret measures 
to secure it, by conspiring to put an instantaneous end to 
the king's power, against which they had so long been 
plotting, vyhen the Flanders regiment arrived, it may be 
readily conceived what must have been their emotions, 
on the frateniisatio.n of this regiment with the body 



CHAPTER XIV. 2oi^ 

guard, and on the scene to which the dinner, given to 
the former troops by the latter, so unpremeditatedly 
led. 

^ On the day of this fatal dinner, I remarked to the 
queen, ^* What a beautiful sight it must be, to behold, in 
these troublesome times, the happy union of such a 
meeting !" 

^ ^' It must indeed !" replied the king ; ^^ and the 
pleasure I feel in knowing it, would be redoubled, had I 
the privilege of entertaining the Flanders regiment, as 
the body-guards are doing/*' 

^ " Heaven forbid !" cried her majesty ; ^<^ Heaven 
forbid, that you should think of such a thing ! The as- 
sembly would never forgive us !" 

^ After we had dined, the queen sent to the Marchio- 
ness Tourzel for the dauphin. When he caoje, the 
queen told him about her having seen the brave officers 
on their arrival ; and how gaily those good oiSicers had left 
the palace, declaring they would die rather than suffer 
any harm to come to him, or his papa and mamma 5 and 
that at that very time they were all dining at the theatre. 

^ ^^ Dining in the theatre, mamma ?" said the young 
prince : '^ I never heard of people dining in a theatre!" 

* " No, my dear child,*' replied her majesty, ^' it is 
not generally allowed ; but they are doing so, because 
the body-guards are giving a dinner to this good Flan- 
ders regiment ; and the Flanders regiment are so brave, 
that the guards chose the finest place they could think of 
to entertain them in, to show how much they like them : 
that is the reason why they are dining in the gay, paint- 
ed theatre." 

*"0h, mamma!" exclaimed the dauphin, whom the 
queen adored, "Oh, papa!" cried he, looking at the 
king, ^' how I should like to see them I" 



236 CflAPTER XIY. 

^'^ Let us go and satisfy the child !" said the king> 
instantly starting up from his seat. 

^ The queen took the dauphin by the hand, and they 
proceeded to the theatre. It was all done in a moment. 
There was no premeditation on the part of the king or 
queen ; no invitation on the part of the officers. Had I 
been asked;, I should certainly have followed the queen ; 
but just as the king rose, I left the room. The prince 
being eager to see the festival, they set off immediately, 
and when I returned to the apartment, they were gone. 
Not being very w^ell, I remained Vk'here I was ; but most 
of the household had already followed their majesties. 

^ On the royal family making their appearance^ they 
were received with the most unequivocal shouts of gene- 
ral enthusiasm by the troops. Intoxicated with the plea- 
sure of seeing their majesties among them, and over- 
heated with the juice of the grape, they gave them- 
selves up to every excess of joy, which the circumstances 
and the situation of their majesties were so well calcula- 
ted to inspire. ^^ Oh, Richard! oh mon roi^^ was 
sung, as well as many other loyal songs. The healths 
of the king, queen, and dauphin were drunk, till the 
regiments were really inebriated wath the mingled influ- 
ence of wine and shouting vivas! 

^ Vv hen the royal party retired, they were followed by 
all the military to the very palace doors, where they 
sung, danced, embraced each other, and gave way to all 
the frantic demonstrations of devotedness to the roj^'al 
cause, which the excitement of the scene and the table 
could produce. Throngs, of course, collected to get 
near the royal family. Many persons in the rush were 
trampled on, and one or two men, it was said, crushed 
to death. The dauphin and the king were delighted; 
but the queen, in p:iving the Princess Elizabeth and my- 



CflAPTElJ XIV. 237 

self an account of the festival, foresaw the fatal result 
Avhich would ensue; and deeply deplored the marked 
enthusiasm with which they had been greeted and fol- 
lowed by the military. 

^ There was one more military spectacle, a public 
breakfast, which took place on the second of October. 
Though none of the royal family appeared at it, it was 
no less injurious to their interests than the former. The 
enemies of the crown spread reports all over Paris, that 
the king and queen had manoeuvred to pervert the minds 
of the troops so far as to make them declare against the 
measures of the National Assembly. It is not likely, 
that the assembly, or politics, were even spoken of at 
the breakfast; but the report did as much mischief as the 
reality would have done. This was quite sufficient to 
encourage the Orleans and Mirabeau faction in the As- 
sembly to the immediate execution of their long medita- 
ted scheme, of overthrowing the monarchy. 

^On the very day following, Dupont, Lameth, and 
Barnave, sent their confidential agent, to apprize the 
queen, that certain deputies had already fully matured a 
plot to remove the king, nay, to confine her majesty 
from him in a distant part of France, that her influence 
over his mind might no farther thwart their premediated 
establishment of a constitution.-- 

* But others of this body, and the more powerful and 
subtle portion, had a deeper object, so depraved, that 

* The dinner of the Flanders regiment is generally supposed to 
have been the immediate cause of the massacres of the 5th and 
6th of October. But it is obvious, that it was only the immediate 
pretext. The great alarm seems to have been taken after the first 
introduction of the officers to the queen ; although the conversa- 
tion of Dumourier shows, that the whole affair was entirely con- 
rprted snmf time before. 



238 CHAPTER XIY. 

even when forewarned, the queen could not deem it pos- 
sible; but of which she was soon convinced by their in- 
fernal acts. 

* The riotous faction, for the purpose of accelerating 
this denouement, had contrived, by buying up all the 
corn and sending it out of the country, to reduce the po- 
pulace to famine, and then to make it appear, that the 
king and queen had been the monopolizers, and the ex- 
travagance of Maria Antoinette, and her largesses to 
Austria and her favourites, the cause. The plot was so 
deeply laid, that the wretches, who undertook to ef- 
fect the diabolical scheme, wiere metamorphosed in the 
queen's livery, so that all the odium might fall on her 
unfortunate majesty. At the head of the commission of 
monopolizers was Luckner, who had taken a violent dis- 
like to the queen, in consequence of his having been re- 
fused some preferment which he attributed to her influ- 
ence. Mirabeau, who was still in the back ground, and 
longing to take a more prominent part, helped it on as 
much as possible. Pinet, wRo had been a confidential 
agent of the Duke of Orleans, himself told the Duke de 
Penthievre, that Orleans had monopolized all the corn. 
This communication, and the activity of the Count de 
Fersan, saved France, and Paris in particular, from pe- 
rishing for the want of bread. Even at the moment of 
the abominable masquerade, in which her majesty's agents 
were made to appear the enemies, who were starving 
the French people, out of revenge for the checks impo- 
sed by them on the royal authority, it was well known 
to all the court, that both her majesty and the king were 
grieved to the soul at their piteous want, and distributed 
immense sums for the relief of the poor sufferers, as did 
the Duke de Penthievre, the Dutchess of Orleans, the 
Prince of Conde, the Duke and Dutchess de Bourbon^ 



ClIAPTEtt XIV. 239 

and others;* but these acts were done privately, while 
he who had created the necessity took to himself the 
exclusive credit of the relief, and employed thousands 
daily, to propagate reports of his generosity. Mirabeau, 
then the factotum agent of the operations of the Palais 
Royal and its demagogues, greatly added to the support 
of this impression. Indeed, till undeceived afterwards, 
he believed it to be really the Duke of Orleans, who had 
succoured the people. 

^ I dispensed two hundred and twenty thousand livres, 
merely to discover the names of the agents, who had been 
employed to carry on this nefarious plot, to exasperate 
the people against the throne by starvation imputed to 
the sovereign.! Though money achieved the discovery 
in time to clear the characters of my royal mistress and 
the king, the detection only followed the mischief of the 
crime. But even the rage thus wickedly excited was 
not enough to carry through the plot. In the fauxbourgs 
of Paris, where the women became furies, two hundred 
thousand livres were distributed ere the horror could be 
completely exposed. 

'But it is time for me to enter upon the scenes, to 
which all the intrigues I have detailed were intended to 
lead — the removal of the royal family from Versailles. 

' My heart sickens when I retrace these moments of 
anguish. The point to which they are to conduct us, 
yet remains one of the mysteries of fate. 

* The princess should have included her own name, for she was 
most munificent, though secretly so, on the occasion. 

t Whether the Duke of Orleans had or had not any private mo- 
tives of rancour against his sister-in-law, the Princess Lamballe, 
for her attachment to the queen, he, from this moment, when she 
so completely unmasked him, never ceased to exercise his ven- 
geance against her. 



'^If 



i40 



CHAPTER XV. 



Journal continued. — March from Paris of a factious mob and the 
National Guard, with La Fayette at their head. — ^Poissards at 
the palace gates of Versailles. — Dreadful tumult.- — Attempt to 
assassinate the queen.— Orleans seen encouraging the regicides. 
— La Fayette suspected, from his not appearing to quell the 
insurrection. — The queen shows herself at the windows of the 

palace, with her children. — -Her heroic address to the king 

The royal family depart with the mob for Paris. — Their situa- 
tion at the Thuilleries.' — Mirabeau, disgusted with Orleans, 
deserts him. — Orleans, impelled by fear, flies to England. — 
The king and queen requested by a deputation from the Na- 
tional Assembly to appear at the theatre.' — Conversation between 
her majesty and Count de Fersan on the queen's refusal. — The 
queen and the Dutchess de Luynes. — Dejected state of her ma- 
jesty, who ceases to be seen in society. 

^ Her majesty had been so thoroughly hilled into se- 
curity by the enthusiasm of the regiments, at Versailles;, 
that she treated all the reports from Paris with contempt. 
Nothing was apprehended from that quarter, and no pre- 
parations were consequently made for resistance or pro- 
tection. She was at Little Trianon when the news of the 
approach of the desolating torrent arrived. The king 
was hunting, I presented to her the commandant of the 
troops at Versailles, who assured her majesty, that a 
murderous faction, too powerful, perhaps, for resistance, 
was marching, principally against her royal person, with 
La Fayette at their head : and implored her to put her- 
self and valuables in immediate safety ; particularly all 
her correspondence with the princes, emigrants, and for- 
eign courts^ if she had no means of destroying them. 



CHAPTER XV. 241 

•Though the queen was somewhat awakened to the 
truth by this earnest appeal, yet she still considered the 
extent of the danger as exaggerated, and looked upon 
the representation as partaking, in a considerable degree, 
of the nature of all reports in times of popular com- 
motion. 

^ Presently, however, a more startling omen appeared, 
in a much milder but ambiguous communication from 
General La Fayette. He stated, that he was on his 
march from Paris with the National Guard, and part of 
the people, coming to make remonstrances ; but he beg- 
ged her majesty to rest assured, that no disorder would 
take place, and that he himself would vouch that there 
should be none. 

^ The king was instantly sent for to the heights of 
Meudon, while the queen set oif from Little Trianon, 
with me, for Versailles. 

^ The first movements were commenced by a few wo- 
men, or men in womens' clothes, at the palace gates of 
Versailles. The guards refused them entrance, from an 
order they had received to that effect from La Fayette. 
The consternation produced by their resentment was a 
mere prelude to the horrid tragedy that succeeded. 

^ The information now pouring in from different quar- 
ters, increased her majesty's alarm every moment. The 
order of La Fayette, not to let the women be admitted, 
convinced her, that there was something in agitation, 
which his unexplained letter made her sensible was more 
to be feared, than if he had signified the real situation 
and danger to which she was exposed. 

^A messenger was forthwith despatched for M. la 
Fayette, and another, by order of the queen, for M. do 
St. Priest, to prepare a retreat for the royal family, as 
the Parisian mob's advance could no longer be doubted. 
Every thing necessary was accordingly got ready, 

Hh 



242 CllAl'TER XV. 

^ La Fayette now arrived at Versailles, in obedience to 
the message, and, in the presence of all the court and 
ministers, assured the king, that he could answer for the 
Paris army, at the head of which he intended to march, 
to prevent disorders; and advised the admission of the 
women into the palace, who, he said, had nothing to 
propose but a simple memorial relative to the scarcity of 
bread. 

*^ The queen said to him, ^^ Remember, sir, you have 
pledged your honour for the king's safety." 

^ " And I hope, madam, to be able to redeem it." 
'^ He then left Versailles to return to his post with the 
array, 

^ A limited number of the women were at length ad- 
mitted : and so completely did they seem satisfied with 
the reception they met with from the king, as, in all 
appearance, to have quieted their riotous companionsa 
The language of menace and remonstrance had changed 
into shouts of ^* Vive le roiP^ The apprehensions of 
their majesties were subdued ; and the whole system of 
operation, which had been previously adopted for the 
royal family's quitting Versailles, was, in consequence, 
unfortunately changed. 

^ But the troops, that had been hitherto under arms 
for the preservation of order, in going back to their 
hotel, were assailed, and fired at by the mob. 

* The return of the body guards, thus insulted in gor- 
ing to and coming from the palace, caused the queen and 
the court to resume the resolution, of instantly retiring 
from Versailles \ but it was now too late. They were 
stopped by the municipality and the mob of the city, 
who were animated to excess against the queen by one of 
the bass singers of the French opera,* 

■■' La Haise, 



CHAPTER XV. 243 

^ Every hope of tranquillity was now shaken by the 
hideous howlings, which arose from all quarters. Intend- 
ed flight had become impracticable. Atrocious expres- 
sions were levelled against the queen, too shocking for 
repetition. I shudder when I reflect to what a degree 
of outrage the poissardes of Paris were excited, to ex- 
press their abominable designs on the life of that most 
adored of sovereigns. 

' Early in the evening her majesty came to my apart- 
ment, in company with one of her female attendants. 
She was greatly agitated. She brought all her jewels 
and a considerable quantity of papers, which she had be- 
gun to collect together immediately on her arrival from 
Trianon, as the commandant had recommended.* 

^ Notwithstanding the fatigue and agitation, which the 
queen must have suffered during the day, and the con- 
tinued threats, horrible howlings, and discharge of fire- 

* Neither her majesty, nor the princess, ever returned (o Ver- 
sailles after the sixth of that fatal October ! Part of the papers, 
brought by the queen to the apartment of the princess, were tack- 
ed by me on two of my petticoats ; the under one three fold, one 
on the other, and outside ', and the upper one, three or four fold 
double on the inside j and thus I left the room with this paper un- 
der garment, which put me to no inconvenience. Returning to 
the princess, I was ordered to go to Lisle, there take the papers 
from their hiding place, and deliver them, with others, to the same 
person who received the box, of which mention will be found in 
another part of this work. I was not to take any letters, and was 
to come back immediately. 

As I was leaving the apartment, her majesty said something to 
her highness which I did not hear. The princess turned roOnd 
very quickly, and kissing me on the forehead, said in Italian, 
Cara mia Inglesinay per carita guardatevi bene. lo non mi 
perdonerd giammai se Varrivasse qualche disgrazia.' " My dear 
little Englishwoman, for heaven's sake, be careful of yourself, for 
I should never forgive myself, if any misfortune were to befal 
you."— <« Nor I," said her majesty. 



244 CHAPTER XT. 

arms during the night, she had courage enough to visit 
the bed-chambers of her children, and then to retire to 
rest in her own. 

' But her rest was soon fearfully interrupted. Horrid 
cries at her chamber door, of, " Save the queen ! save 
the queen! or she will be assassinated P^ aroused her. 
The faithful guardian, who gave the alarm, was never 
heard more. He was murdered in her defence ! Her 
majesty herself only escaped the poignards of immediate 
death, by flying to the king's apartment, almost in the 
same state as she lay in bed, not having had time to 
screen herself with any covering, but what was casually 
thrown over her by the women, who assisted her in her 
flight j while one well acquainted with the palace is said 
to have been seen busily engaged in encouraging the re- 
gicides, who thus sought her for midnight murder. The 
faithful guards, who defended the entrance to the room 
of the intended victim of these desperadoes, took shelter 
in the room itself upon her leaving it, and were alike 
threatened with instant death by the grenadier assassins^ 
for having defeated them in their fiendlike purpose : they 
were however saved by the generous interposition and 
courage of two gentlemen, who, offering themselves as 
victims in their place, thus brought about a temporary 
accommodation between the regular troops and the Na- 
tional Guard. 

^ All this time General La Fayette never once appear- 
ed. It is presumed, that he himself had been deceived 
as to the horrid designs of the mob, and did not choose 
to show himself, finding it impossible to check the im- 
petuosity of the horde he had himself brought to action, 
in concurring to countenance their first movements from 
Paris. Posterity will decide how far he was justified in 
pledging himself for the safety of the royal family, while 
he was heading a riotous mob, whose atrocities were 



CHAPTER XV, 245 

:,^'uaranteed from punishment or check, by the sanction of 
his presence, and the faith reposed in his assurance. Was 
he ignorant, or did he only pretend to be so, of the incal- 
culable mischief, inevitable from giving power and a reli- 
ance on impunity to such an unreasoning mass? By any 
military operation, as commander in chief, he might have 
turned the tide. And why did he not avail himself of 
that authority with which he had been invested by the 
National Assembly, as the delegates of the nation, for 
the general safety and guardianship of the people? for 
the people, of whom he was the avowed protector, were 
themselves in peril : it was only the humanity (or rather, 
in such a crisis, the imbecility) of Louis XVI. that pre- 
vented them from being fired on ; and they would inevit- 
ably have been sacrificed, and that through the want of 
policy in their leader, had not this mistaken mercy of 
the ?ting prevented his guards from offering resistance ta 
the murderers of his brave defenders! 

^The cry of ^^ Queen! queen !^^ now resounded from 
the lips of the cannibals stained with the blood of her 
faithful guards. She appeared shielded|^y filial affec- 
tion, between her two innocent children, the threatened 
orphans ! But the sight of so much innocence and he- 
roic courage, paralyzed the hands uplifted for their mas- 
sacre ! 

* A tiger voice cried out, '^ JVo children /" The in- 
fants were hurried away from the maternal side, only to 
witness the author of their being offering up herself, 
eagerly, and instantly, to the sacrifice, an ardent and de- 
lighted victim, to the hoped-for preservation of those, 
perhaps, orphans^ dearer to her far than life I Her re- 
signation and firm step, in facing the savage cry, that 
was thundering against her, disarmed the ferocious 
beasts, that were hungering and roaring for their prey! 



246 CHAPTER XV^ 

<^ Mirabeau, whose immense head and gross figure couhl 
not be mistaken, is said to have been the first among the 
mob to have sonorously chanted, " To Paris P^ His 
myrmidons echoed and re-echoed the cry upon the sig- 
nals He then hastened to the Assembly, to contravene 
any measures the king might ask in opposition. The 
riots increasing, the queen said to his majesty: 

^ ^* Oh, sire ! why am I not animated with the courage 
of Maria Theresa? Let me go, with my childreu, to 
the National Assembly, as she did to the Hungarian Se- 
nate, with my imperial brother, J^ph, in her arms, and 
Leopold in her womb, when Charles the Seventh of Ba= 
varia had deprived her of all her German dominions, 
and she had already written to the Dutchess of Lorraine 
to prepare her an asylum, not knowing where she should 
be delivered of the precious charge she was then bear- 
ing: but I, like the mother of the Gracchi, like Cornelia, 
more esteemed for my birth than for my marriage, am 
the wife of the king of France, and I see we shall be 
murdered in our beds for the want of our own exer- 
tions I" n 

* The king remained as if paralysed and stupified, and 
made no answer. The Princess Elizabeth then threw 
herself at the queen's feet, imploring her to consent to 
go to Paris» 

i «Xo Paris! exclaimed her majesty. 
* " Yes, madam/' said the king. " I will put an end 
to these horrors, and tell the people so." 

* On this, without waiting for the queen's answer, he 
opened the balcony, and told the populace he was ready 
to depart with his family. 

^ This sudden change caused a change equally suddeti 
in the rabble mob. All shouted, " Vive le roi! Vive la 
nation P 



CHAPTER XV. 247 

« Re-entering the room from the window, the king 
said, " It is done. This affair will soon be terminated." 
^" And with it," said the queen, <^the monarchy!" 

* ii Better that, madam, than running the risk, as I 
did some hours since, of seeing you and my children sa- 
crificed !" 

^ ^' That, sire, will be the consequence of our not ha- 
ving left Versailles. Whatever you determine, it is my 
duty to obey. As to myself, I am resigned to my fate." 
On this, she burst into a flood of tears. '^ I only feel 
for your humiliated state, and for the safety of our chil- 
dren." 

^ The royal family departed without having consulted 
any of the ministers, military or civil, or the National 
Assembly by whom they were followed.* 

* The cruel procession is not mentioned in this journal. The 
descriptions of it are so numerous, that they must be fresh in the 
recollection of all readers. To save the trouble of reference, 
however, I quote a few words from the accounts of Campan and 
Bertrand de Moleville. 

« The (king's) carriage was preceded by the Mfeds of two mur- 
dered body guards, carried upon pikes. It was surrounded by 
ruffians, who contemplated the royal personages with a brutal cu- 
riosity. A few of the body guards, on foot, and unarmed, cover- 
ed by the ancient French guards, followed dejectedly ; and, to 
complete the climax, after six or seven hours spent in travelling 
from Versailles to Paris, their majesties were led to the Hotel 
de Ville, as if to make the amende honourable.^''— Camparif Vol. 
II. 313. 

*« The king did not leave Versailles till one o'clock. The hun- 
dred deputies in their carriages followed. A detachment of bri- 
gands, bearing the heads of two body guards in triumph, formed 
the advanced guard, and set out two hours earlier. These canni- 
bals stopped a moment at Sevres, and carried their cruelty to the 
length of forcing an unfortunate hair-dresser to dress the gory 
heads? the bulk of the Parisian army followed them cfosely. 
The king's carriage was preceded by the poissardes who had ar- 



248 CHAPTER xv: 

* Scarcely liad they arrived at Paris when the queen 
recollected, that she had taken with her no change of 
dress, either for herself or her children, and they were 
obliged to ask permission of the National Assembly to 
allow them to send for their different wardrobes. 

^What a situation for an absolute king and queen;? 
which, but a few hours previous, they had been ! 



rived the day before from Paris, and a whole rabble of prostitutesj 
the vile refuse of their sex, still drunk with fury and wine. Se- 
veral of them rode astride upon cannon, boasting, in the most 
horrible songs, all the crimes they had committed themselves, or 
seen others commit. Those who were nearest the king's carriage., 
sang ballads, the allusions of which, by means of their vulgar 
gestures, they applied to the queen. Wagons, full of corn and 
flour, which had been brought into Versailles, formed a train es- 
corted by grenadiers and surrounded by women and bullies, some 
armed with pikes, and some carrying long branches of poplar. At 
some distance, this part of the procession had a most singular ef- 
fect t it looked like a moving forest, amidst which shone pike- 
heads and gun-barrels. In the paroxysms of their brutal joy, the 
women stopped passengers, and pointing to the king's carriage, 
howled in their ears : " Cheer up, friends ; we shall no longer 
be in want of bread : we bring you the baker, the baker's wife, 
and the little baker boy!" Behind his majesty's carriage were 
several of his faithful guards, some on foot, and some on horses- 
back, most of them uncovered, all unarmed, and worn out with 
hunger and fatigue | the dragoons, the Flanders regiment, the 
hundred Swiss of the national guards, preceded, accompanied, or 
followed, the file of carriages, I witnessed this heart-rending- 
spectacle ; I saw the ominous procession. In the midst of all the 
tumult, clamour, and singing, interrupted by frequent discharges 
of musketry, which the hand of a monster or a bungler might so 
ifeasily render fatal, I saw the queen preserving the most courage- 
ous tranquillity of soul, and an air of nobleness and inexpressible 
dignity, and my eyes were suffused with tears of admiration and 
gvieV^-^Bertrand de Moleville. 

With this procession, ended the sovereignty of Louis XVI. ani 
Maria Antoinette ! 



CHAPTER XV. 249 

"' I now took up my residence with their majesties at 
the Thuilleries : that odious Thuilleries, which I cannot 
name but with horror, where the malignant spirit of re- 
bellion has perhaps, dragged us to an untimely death ! 

^ Monsieur and Madame had another residence. Bail- 
ly the mayor of Paris, and La Fayette became the royal 
jailers. 

^The Princess Elizabeth and myself could not but 
deeply deplore, when we saw the predictions of Du- 
mourier so dreadfully confirmed by the result, that her 
majesty should have so slighted his timely information^ 
and scorned his penitence. But delicacy bade us lament 
in silence ; and, while we grieved over her present suf- 
ferings, we could not but mourn the loss of a barrier 
against future aggression, in the rejection of this gene- 
ral's proffered services. , 

^ It will be remembered, that Dumourier in his disclo- 
sure declared, that the object of this commotion was to 
place the Duke of Orleans upon the throne, and that Mi- 
rabeau, who was a prime mover, was to share in the pro- 
fits of the usurpation. 

* But the heart of the traitor duke failed him at the 
important crisis. Though he was said to have been re- 
cognised through a vulgar disguise, stimulating the as- 
sassins to the attempted murder of her majesty, yet;. 
when the moment to show himself had arrived, he was 
no where to be found. The most propitious moment for 
the execution of the foul crime was lost, and with it the 
confidence of his party. Mirabeau was digusted. So 
far from wishing longer to offer him the crown, he struck 
it for ever from his head, and turned against him. He 
openly protested he would no longer set up traitors who 
were cowards. 

< Soon after this event, her majesty, in tears, came to 
tell mc; that the king, having had positive proof of the 

li 



250 CHAPTEll XV. 

agency of the Duke of Orleans in the riots of Versailles^ 
had commenced some proceedings, which had given the 
duke the alarm, and exiled him to Villers CoteretZo 
The queen added, that the king's only object had been 
to assure the general tranquillity? and, especially, her 
own security, against whose life the conspiracy seemed 
most distinctly levelled. 

"' "Oh, princess!'' continued her majesty in a flood of 
tears, ^^ the king's love for me, and his wish to restore 
order to his people, have been our ruin I He should 
have struck off the head of Orleans, or overlooked his 
crime!* Why did he not consult me before he took a 
step so important? I have lost a friend also in his wife! 
Eor, however criminal he may be, she loves him." 

^ I assured her majesty, that I could not think the 
Dutchess of Orleans would be so inconsiderate as to with= 
draw her affection on that account. 

^ " She certainly will," replied Maria Antoinette 
^' She is the aifectionate mother of his children, and can- 
not but hate those, who have been the cause of his exilco 
I know it will be laid to my charge, and, added to the 
hatred the husband has so long borne me, I shall now be- 
come the object of the wife's resentment." 

*In the midst of one of the paroxysms of her majes= 
ty's agonising agitation after leaving Versailles, for the 
past, the present, and the future state of the royal fami- 
ly, when the Princess Elizabeth and myself were in vain 
endeavouring to calm her, a deputation was announced 
from the National Assembly and the city of Paris^ re= 



* The queen was right. The duke did not lose sight of his 
purpose during his stay at Villers Coteretz. He remained active 
in his designs against the royal authority, and his hostile spirit 
still prowled there, in darkness, though he himself was apparent- 
ly iaaetife.. 



CHAPTER XV. 251 

questing the honour of the appearance of tlie king and 
herself at the theatre. 

'^ " Is it possible, my dear princess,'' cried she, on the 
announcement, " that I can enjoy any public amusement, 
while I am still chilled with horror at the blood these 
people have spilled, the blood of the faithful defenders 
of our lives? I can forgive them, but I cannot so easily 
forget it." 

^ Count de Fersan and the Austrian ambassador now 
entered, both anxious to know her majesty's intentions 
with regard to visiting the theatre, in order to make a 
party to ensure her a good reception ; but all their per- 
suasions were unavailing. She thanked the deputation 
for their friendship ; but at the same time told them, that 
her mind was still too much agitated from recent scenes, 
to receive any pleasure but in the domestic cares of her 
family, and that, for a time, she must decline every other 
amusement. 

' At this moment the Spanish and English ambassadors 
came to pay their respects to her majesty on the same 
subject as the others. As they entered, Count de Fer- 
san observed to the queen, looking around : 

^ ^^ Courage, madam ! We are as many nations as 
persons in this room ; English, German, Spanish, Italian, 
Swedish and French; and all equally ready to form a 
rampart around you against aggression. All these na- 
tions will, I believe, admit, that the French (bowing to 
Princess Elizabeth) are the most volatile of the six; and 
your majesty may rely on it, that they will love youj, 
now that you are more closely among them, more tender- 
ly than ever." 

* " Let me live to be convinced of that, sir, and my 
happiness will be concentrated in its demonstration." 

* " Indeed, gentlemen," said the Princess Elizabeth; 



252 CHAPTER XV, 

<^Uhe queen has yet had but little reason to love the 
French." 

' " Where is our ambassador/' said, I, ^' and the 
Neapolitan ?" 

^ " I have had the pleasure of seeing them early this 
morning," replied the queen ; ^^ but I told them also, 
that indisposition prevented my going into public. They 
will be at our card party in your apartment this evening, 
where I hope to see these gentlemen. The only par- 
ties," continued her majesty, addressing herself to the 
Princess Elizabeth and the ambassadors, •'^ the only par- 
ties I shall visit, in future, will be those of the Princess 
Lamballe, my superintendent ; as, in so doing, I shall 
have no occasion to go out of the palace, which, from 
what has happened, seems to me the only prudent 
course." 

^ " Come, come, madam," exclaimed the ambassadors; 
*^ do not give way to gloomy ideas. All will yet be 
well." 

^ •• I hope so," answered her majesty ', '^ but, till that 
hope is realized, the v^^ounds I have suffered will make 
existence a burthen to me !" 

^ The Dutchess de Luynes, like many others, had been 
a zealous partisan of the new order of things, and had 
expressed herself with great indiscretion in the presence 
of the queen. But the dutchess was brought to her sen- 
ses, when she saw herself, and all the mad, democratica! 
nobility, under the overpowering weight of Jacobinism^;, 
deprived of every privileged prerogative, and levelled 
and stripped of hereditary distinction* 

^ She came to me one day, weeping, to beg I would 
make use of my good ojffices in her favour, with the 
queen, whom she was grieved that she had so grossly of- 
fended by an unguarded speech. 



CHAPTER XV, 253 

* " On my knees," continued the dutchess, " am I 
ready to supplicate the pardon of her majesty. I cannot 
live without her forgiveness. One of my servants has 
opened my eyes, by telling me, that the revolution can 
make a dutchess a beggar, but cannot make a beggar a 
dutchess." 

< "Unfortunately," said I, "if some of these faithful 
servants had been listened to, they would still be such, 
and not now our masters ; but I can assure you, dutchess, 
that the queen has long since forgiven you. See ! her 
majesty comes to tell you so herself." 

^ The dutchess fell upon her knees. The queen, with 
her usual goodness of heart, clasped her in her arms, and 
with tears in her eyes, said : 

<" We have all of us need of forgiveness. Our er^ 
rors and misfortunes are general. Think no more of the 
past ; but let us unite in not sinning for the future." 

*' Heaven knows how many sins I have to atone for," 
replied the dutchess, " from the follies of youth ; but 
now, at an age of discretion, and in adversity, oh, how 
bitterly do I reproach myself for my past levities ! 
But," continued she, ^^ has your majesty really for- 
given me ?" 

^ " As I hope to be forgiven !" exclaimed Maria An- 
toinette. " No penitent in the sight of God is more ac- 
ceptable, than the one who makes a voluntary sacrifice 
by confessing error. Forget and forgive is the language 
of our Blessed Redeemer. I have adopted it in regard 
to my enemies, and surely my friends ha/e a right to 
claim it. Come, dutchess, I will conduct you. to the king 
and Elizabeth, who will rejoice in the recovery of one of 
our lost sheep ; for we sorely feel the diminution of the 
flock, that once surrounded us!" 

'^ At this token of kindness, the dutchess was so much 



254 CHAPTER XT. 

overcome, that she fell at the queen's feet motionless, and 
it was some time before she recovered.*" 

' From the moment of her majesty's arrival at Paris 
from Versailles, she solely occupied herself with the ed- 
ucation of her children ; excepting when she resorted to 
my parties, the only ones, as she had at first determined, 
which she ever honoured with her attendance^ In order 
to discover, as far as possible, the sentiments of certain 
persons, I gave almost general invitations, whereby, from 
her amiable manners and gracious condescension, she be- 
came very popular. By these means I hoped, to replace 
her majesty in the good estimation of her numerous vi° 
siters; but, notwithstanding every exertion, she could 
not succeed in dispelling the gloom with which the revo- 
lution had overcast all her former gaiety. Though treat- 
ed with ceremonious respect, she missed the cordiality to 
which she had been so long accustomed, and which she 
so much prized. From the great emigration of the high- 
er classes of the nobility, the societies themselves were 
no longer what they had been. Madame Neckar and 
Madame de Sta'el were pretty regular visiters. But the 
most agreeable company had lost its zest for Maria An- 
toinette 5 and she was really become afraid of large as- 
semblies, and scarcely ever saw a group of persons col- 
lected together, without fearing some plot against the 
king. 

^- Ever after, the dutchess remained one of the most sincere 
friends of that unfortunate queen. The manner in which Ma- 
dame Campan soeaks of her grief at the murder of her majesty, 
proves the sincenty of her professed penitence. 

The Princess Lamballe, was so uniformly eager in contributing 
to the peace of mind and happiness of every individual who 
sought her mediation, that she was as well known by the appella- 
tion of " the peace-maker," as she was by her title. 



CHAPTER XV. 255 

* Indeed, it is a peculiarity which has from the first 
marked, and still continues to distinguish, the whole con« 
duct and distrust of my royal mistress, that it never 
operates to create any fears for herself, but invariably re- 
fers to the safety of his majesty. 

< I had enlarged my circle, and made my parties ex- 
tensive, solely to relieve the oppressed spirits of the 
queen ; but the very circumstance, which induced me to 
make them so general, soon rendered them intolerable to 
her ; for the conversations at last became solely confined 
to the topics of the revolution, a subject frequently the 
more distressing, from the presence of the sons of the 
Duke of Orleans. Though 1 loved my sister-in-law and 
my nephews, I could not see them without fear, nor 
could my royal mistress be at ease with them, ot* in the 
midst of such distressing indications, as perpetually in- 
truded upon her, even beneath my roof, of the spirit, 
which animated the great body of the people, for the 
propagation of anti -monarchical principles. 

^ My parties were, consequently, broken up ; and the 
queen ceased to be seen in society. Then commenced 
the unconquerable power over her of those forebodings, 
which have clung to her with such pertinacity ever 
since. 

^ I observed, that her majesty would often indulge in 
the most melancholy predictions, long before the fatal dis- 
cussion took place in the assembly, respecting the king's 
abdication. The daily insolence with which she saw his 
majesty's authority deprived for ever of the power of 
accomplishing what he had most at heart for the good of 
his people, gave her more anguish than the outrages so 
frequently heaped upon herself; but her misery was 
wrought up to a pitch altogether unutterable, whenever 
she saw those around her suiFer for their attachment to 
hep in her misfortunes. 



256 CHAPTER XV. 

i The Princess Elizabeth has been, from the begin- 
ning, an unwavering comforter. She still flatters Maria 
Antoinette, that Heaven will spare her for better times, 
to reward our fidelity and her own agonies. The pious 
consolations of her highness have never failed to make 
the most serious impression on our wretched situation. 
Indeed, each of us strives to pour the balm of comfort 
into the wounded hearts of the others, while not one of 
us, in reality, dares to flatter herself with what we all so 
ardently wish for in regard to our fellow sufferers. De- 
lusions even sustained by facts, have long since been ex= 
liausted. Our only hope, on this side of the grave, is m 
our all merciful Redeemer V 



CHAPTER XVI. 

The Editor relates aaecdotes of herself, illustrative of the spirit 
of the times.— Outcry against her at the theatre, on account of 
die colours of her dress. — Refused by the guards admission to 
the Thuilleries, from not having the national ribbon. — Spy set 
upon her by the queen to try her fidelity. 

The reader will not, I trust, be dissatisfied at reposing 
for a moment from the sad story of the Princess Lam-- 
balle, to hear some ridiculous circumstances which occur- 
red to me, individually; and which, though they form no 
part of the history, are sufficiently illustrative of the 
temper of the times. 

I had been sent to England, ^to put some letters into 
the post ofiice for the Prince of Conde, and had just re= 
turned. The fashion, then, in England, was a black 
dress, Spanish hat, and yellow sstin lining, with three 
ostrich feathers forming the Pnnce of Wales' crest, and 
bearing his inscription, Ich dien,^ '^ I serve." I also 
brought with me a white satin cloak, trimmed with white 
fur. 

In this dress, I went to the French opera. Scarcely 
was I seated in the bo^:, when I heard shouts of, '' En 
has les couleurs de Fempereur ! En has P^ 

I was very busy talking to a person in the box, and 
having been accustomed to hear and see partial riots in the 
pit, I paid no attention ; never dreaming, that my poor 
hat and feathers, and cloak, were the cause of the com- 

* This crest and motto date as far back, I believe, as the time 
of Edward the Black Prince. 

Kk 



258 ClIAPTER XVIa 

motion, till an officer in the national guard very politely 
knocked at the door of the box, and told me I must 
either take them off, or leave the theatre. 

Therxi is nothing I more dislike than the being thought 
particular, or disposed to attract attention by dress. 
The moment therefore I found myself thus unintention- 
ally the object of a whole theatre's disturbance, In the 
first impulse of indignation, I impetuously caught off the 
cloak and hat, and flung them into the pit, at the very 
faces of the rioters. 

The theatre instantly rang with applause. The ob= 
noxious articles were carefully folded up, and taken to 
the officer of the guard, who, when I left the box, at the 
end of the opera, brought them to me, and offered to as- 
sist me in putting them on ; but I refused them with true 
cavalier-like loftiness, and entered my carriage, without 
either hat or cloak. 

There were many of the audience collected round the 
carriage at the time, who, witnessing my rejection of the 
insulted colours, ag^ain loudly cheered me 5 but insisted 
on the officers placing the hat and cloak in the carriage^ 
which drove off amidst \he most violent acclamationso 

Another day, as I was going to walk in the Thuilleries 
(which I generally did after riding on horseback,) the 
guards crossed their bayonets at the gate and forbade my 
entering. I asked them why. They told me no one 
was allowed to walk there without the national ribbon. 

Now I always had one of these national ribbons about 
me, from the time they were first worn ; but I kept it in 
the inside of my riding habit ; and on that day, in par= 
ticular, my supply was unusually ample, for I had on a 
Bew riding habit, the petticoat of which was so Very long 
and heavy, that I bought a large quantity to tie round 
my waist, and fasten up the dress, to prevent it from 
falling about my feet. 



CHAPTER XVT. 259 

However, I was determined to plague the guards for 
their impudence. My English beau^ who was as pale as 
death, and knew I had the ribbon, kept pinching my 
arm, and whispering, " Show it, show it ; zounds, ma- 
dam, show it ! We shall be sent to prison ! show it ! 
show it !" But I took care to keep my interrupters in 
parley till a sufficient mob was collected, and then I pro- 
duced my colours. 

The soldiers were consequently most gloriously hissed, 
and would have been maltreated by the mob, and sent to 
the guard house by their officer, but for my intercession ; 
on which I was again applauded all through the gardens 
as ha Brave Anglaise. But my beau declared he would 
never go out with me again, unless 1 wore the ribbon on 
the outside of my hat_, which I never did, and never 
would do. 

At that time, the queen used to occupy herself much 
in fancy needle works. Knowing, from arrangements, 
that I was every day in a certain part of the Thuilleries, 
her majesty, when she heard the shout of La Brave 
Jlnglaise, immediately called the Princess Lamballe, to 
know if she had sent me on any message. Being an- 
swered in the negative, one of the pages was despatched, 
to ascertain the meaning of the cry. The royal family 
lived Jn so continual a state of alarm, that it was appre- 
hended I had got into some scrape ; but I had left the 
Thuilleries before the messenger arrived, and was already 
with the Princess Lamballe, relating the circumstances. 
The princess told her majesty, who graciously observed, 
" I am very happy that she got off so weV ; but caution 
her to be more prudent for the future, A cause, how- 
ever bad, is rather aided than weak^iied by unreasonable 
displays of contempt for it. These unnecessary excite- 
ments of the popular jealousy do us no good." 

I was, of course, severely reprimanded by the prin- 



260 CHAPTER xvr. 

cess for my frolic, though she enjoyed it of all things^ 
and afterwards laughed most heartily. 

The princess told me, a few days after these circum- 
stances of the national ribbon and the Austrian colours 
had taken place at the theatre, that some one belonging 
to the private correspondence at the palace, had been at 
the French opera on the night the disturbance took place 
there, and without knowing the person to whom it rela- 
ted, had told the whole story to the king. 

The queen, and the Princesses Elizabeth and Lamballe 
being present, laughed very heartily. The two latter 
knew it already from myself, the fountain head, but the 
Princess Elizabeth said : 

^^Poor lady! what a fright she must have been in, to 
have had her things taken away from her at the thea- 
tre/' 

•^No fright at all," said the king; '^ for a young wo- 
man, who could act thus firmly under such an insolent 
outrage, will always triumph over cowards, unmanly 
enough to abuse their advantages by insulting hero She 
was^not a French woman, Fli answer for it." 

" Oh, no, sire. She is an Englishwoman," said the 
Princess Lamballe. 

" I am glad of it," exclaimed the king; ^^for when 
she returns to England this will be a good personal speci- 
men for the information of some of her countrymen, who 
have rejoiced at what they call the regeneration of the 
French nation ; a nation once considered the most polish- 
ed in Europe, but now become the most uncivil, and I 
wish I may n^ver have occasion to add, the most barba- 
rous I An instilt oiFered, wantonly, to either sex, at 
any time, is the res,.ilt of insubordination ; but, when of- 
fered to a female, it ib a direct violation of civilized hos- 
pitality, and an abuse of power, which never before 
tarnished that government, now so much the topic of 



CHAPTER XVIp 261 

aljuse by the enemies of order and legitimate authority. 
The French princes, it is true, have been absolute ; still 
/never governed despotically, but always by the advice 
of my counsellors, and cabinet ministers. If they have 
erred, my conscience is void of reproach. I wish the 
National Assembly may govern, for the future, with 
equal prudence, equity, and justice; but they have given 
a poor earnest, in pulling down one fabric before they 
have laid the solid foundation of another. I am very 
happy that their agents, who, though they call them- 
selves the guardians of public order have hitherto de- 
stroyed its course, have, in the courage of this English 
lady, met with some resistance to their insolence, in fool- 
ishly occupying themselves with petty matters, while 
those of vital import are totally neglected." 

It is almost superfluous to mention, that at the epoch 
of which I am speaking, in the revolution, the royal fa- 
mily were in so much distrust of every one about them, 
and very necessarily and justly so, that none were ever 
confided in for affairs, however trifling, without first ha- 
ving their fidelity repeatedly put to the test. I was my- 
self under this probation long before I knew that such 
had ever been imposed. 

With the private correspondence, I had already been 
for some time entrusted ; and it was only previous to 
employing me on secret missions of any consequence, 
that I was subject to the severer scrutiny. Even before 
I was sent abroad, great art was necessary to elude the 
vigilance of prying eyes in the royal circle : and in or- 
der to render my activity available to important purpo- 
ses, my connexion with the court was long kept secret. 
Many stratagems were devised, to mislead the x\rguses 
of the police. To this end, after the disorders of the 
revolution began, I never entered the palaces but on an 
understood signal, for which I have been often obliged 



262 CHAPTER XVI. 

to attend many hours in the gardens of Versailles, as I 
had subsequently done in that of the Thuilleries. 

To pass the time unnoticed, I used generally to take 
a book, and seat myself, occupied in reading, sometimes 
in one spot, sometimes in another ; but with my man and 
maid servant always within call, though never where 
they could be seen. 

On one of these occasions, a person, though not total- 
ly masked, yet sufficiently disguised to prevent my 
recognising his features, came behind my seat, and said 
he wished to speak to me. I turned round and asked 
his business. 

^^ That's coming to the point?" he answered, *^ Walk 
a little way with me, and I will tell you." 

Not to excite suspicion, I walked into a more retired 
part of the garden, after a secret signal to my man ser- 
vant, who followed me unperceived by the stranger. 

^^ I am commissioned," said my mysterious companion^, 
^^ to make you a very handsome present, if you will tell 
me what you are waiting for." 

I laughed, and was turning from him, saying, ^« Is this 
all your business." 

*^ No," he replied. 

*^ Then keep it to yourself. I am not waiting here 
for any one or any thing : but am merely occupied m 
reading, and killing time to the best advantage^" 

^^ Are you a poetess?" 

« No." 

" And scarcely a female ; for your answers are very 
short." 

"Very likely." 

^^But I have §oraethiug of importance to communi- 
cate" — 

" That is impossible." 
'* But listen to me"— 



CHAPTER XVI. 263 

^^ You are mistaken in your person." 
" But surely you will not be so unreasonable, as not to 
hear what I have to say?" 

'' I am a stranger in this country, and can have nothing 
of importance with one I do not know." 

<* You have quarrelled with your lover, and are in an 
ill humour." 

'* Perhaps so. Well! come! I believe you have guessed 
the cause.'* 

^* Ah! it is the fate of us all, to get into scrapes! But 
you will soon make it up ; and now let me entreat your 
attention to what I have to offer." — 

I became impatient, and called my servant. 
'•^ Madame," resumed the stranger, "I am a gentle- 
man, and mean no harm. But I assure you, you stand 
in your own light. I know more about you than you 
think I do." 
^« Indeed!" 

^^Yes, madam, you are waiting here for an august 
personage." 

At this last sentence, my lips laughed, while my heart 
trembled. 

^^ I wish to caution you," continued he, ^' how you 
embark in plans of this sort." 

*^ Sir, I repeat, you have taken me for some other 
person. I will no longer listen to one who is either a 
maniac or an officious intruder." 

Upon this, the stranger bowed, and left me ; but I 
could perceive, that he was not displeased with my an- 
swers, though I was not a little agitated, and longed 
to see her highness to relate to her this curious adven- 
ture. 

In a few hours I did so. The princess was perfectly 
satisfied with my manner of proceeding, only she thought 
it singular, she said, that the stranger should suspect I 



264 CHAPTER XVI= 

was there in attendance for some person of rank ; and 
she repeated, three or four times, ^^ I am heartily glad 
that you did not commit yourself by any decided answer. 
What sort of a man was he?" 

tf^Very much of the gentleman; above the middle 
stature ; and, from what I could see of his countenance, 
rather handsome than otherwise." 
" Was he a Frenchman !" 

" No. I think he spoke good French and English, 
with an Irish accent." 

ii Then I know who it is," exclaimed she. ^^ It is 
Dillon : I know it from some doubts which arose between 
her majesty, Dillon and myself, respecting sending you 
upon a confidential mission. Oh, come hither! come 
hither!" continued her highness, overwhelming me with 
kisses. " How glad, how very glad I am, that the 
queen will be convinced I was not deceived in what I 
told her majesty respecting you. Take no notice of 
what I am telling you | but he was sent from the queen 
to tempt you into some imprudence, or to be convinced, 
by your not falling into the snare, that she might rely on 
your fidelity.'' 

" What ! doubt my fidelity ?'' said L 
^^ Oh, my dear, you must excuse her majesty. We 
live in critical timeSo Yoo will be the more rewarded, 
and much more esteemed, for this proof of your firmness. 
Do you think you should know him, if you were to see 
him again?'' 

** Certainly, I should, if he were in the same dis- 
guise." 

" That, I fear, will be rather difficult to accomplish^ 
However, you shall go in your carriage and wait at the 
door of his sister^ the Marchioness of Desmond ; where I 
will send for him to come to me at four o'clock to=mor» 
mvf. m this way* you will have an opportunity of see- 



CHAPTER XVI. 265 

ing him on horseback, as he always pays his morning 
visits riding." 

I would willingly have taken a sleeping draught, and 
never did I wait more anxiously than for the hour of 
four. 

I left the princess, and in crossing from the Carousal 
to go to the Place Vendome, it rained very fast, and 
there glanced by me, on horseback, the same military 
cloak in which the stranger had been wrapped. My 
carriage was driving so fast, that I still remained in doubt 
as to the wearer's person. 

Next day, however, as appointed, I repaired to the 
place of rendezvous; and I could almost have sworn, 
from the height of the person who alighted from his 
horse, that he w^as my mysterious questioner. 

Still, I was not thoroughly certain. I watched the 
princess coming out, and followed her carriage to the 
Champs Elysees, and told her what I thought. 

'^ Well," replied she, ^* we must think no more about 
it; nor must it ever be mentioned to him, should you^ 
by any chance, meet him.'^ 

I said I should certainly obey her highness. 

A guilty conscience needs no accuser. A few days af- 
ter, I was riding on horseback, in the Bois de Boulogne^ 
when Lord Edward Fitzgerald came up to speak to 
me. Dillon was passing at the time, and seeing Lord 
Edward, stopped, took off his hat, and observed, " A 
very pleasant day for riding, madam !" Then, looking 
"me full in the face, he added, '^ I beg your pardon, ma- 
dam, I mistook you for another lady with whom Lord 
Edward is often in company.^' 

I said there was no offence; but the moment I heard 
him speak, I was no longer in doubt of his being the 
identical person. 

When I Imd learned the ciphering and deciphering, 

LI 



26G CHAPTER XVI. 

and was to be sent to Italy, the queen acknowledged to the 
Princess Lamballc;, that she was fully persuaded I might 
be trusted, as she had good reason to know that my fide- 
lity was not to be doubted, or shaken. 

Dear, hapless princess! She said to me, in one of her 
confidential conversations on these matters—" The queen 
has been so cruelly deceived, and so much watched, that 
she almost fears her own shadow ; but it gives me great 
pleasure, that her majesty had been herself confirmed, 
by one of her own emissaries, in what I never for a mo- 
ment doubted. 

^•^ But do not fancy," continued the princess, laugh = 
ing, ^'^ that you have had only this spy to encounter. 
Many others have watched your motions and your con- 
versations, and all concur in saying you are the devil, 
and they could make nothing of you. But that, mia 
cara piccola diavolina^ is just what we want!'' 



( 267 ) 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Editor in con/inwa/ioyi.««— Extraordinary expedients necessary to 
evade espionage. — Anecdote of boxes sent by the editor from 
Paris.— Curious occurrence respecting Gaminj the king's lock- 
smitli.— Consternation of the Princess Lamballe when apprized 
of it. — Scheme to avoid the consequences. — Kind and interest- 
ing conduct of the queen and royal family. 

I AM compelled, with reluctance, to continue person- 
ally upon the stage and must to do so for the three ensuing- 
chapters, in order to put my readers in possession of cir- 
cumstances explanatory of the next portion of the Jour- 
nal of the Princess Lamballe. 

Even the particulars I am about to mention can give 
but a very faint idea of the state of alarm, in which the 
royal family lived, and the perpetual watchfulness and 
strange and involved expedients, that were found neces- 
sary for their protection. Their most trifling communi- 
cations were scrutinized with so much jealousy, that 
when any of importance were to be made, it required a 
dexterity almost miraculous, to screen them from the ever 
watchful eye of espionage. 

I was often made instrumental to evading the curiosity 
of others, without ever receiving any clue to the grati- 
fication of my own, even had I been troubled with such 
impertinence. The anecdote I am about to mention will 
show how cautious a game it was thought necessary to 
play ; and the result of my half-information will evince, 
that over caution may produce evils almost equal to total 
carelessness. 

Some time previous to the flight of the royal family 



268 CHAPTER XVII. 

from Paris, the Princess Lamballe told me she wanted 
some repairs made to the locks of certain dressing and 
writing desks ; but she would prefer having them done 
at my apartments, and by a locksmith who lived at a dis- 
tance from the palace. 

When the boxes were repaired, I was sent with one 
of them to Lisle, where another person took charge of it 
for the arch-dutchess at Brussels. 

There was something which strongly marked the kind 
heartedness of the Princess Lamballe in a part of this 
transaction. I had left Paris without a passport, and her 
highness, fearing it might expose me to inconveniencCj 
sent an express after me. The express arrived three 
hours before I did, and the person to whom I have allu- 
ded came out of Brussels in his carriage to meet me and 
receive the box. At the same time, he gave me a sealed 
letter, without any address. I asked him from whom he 
received it. and to whom it was to be delivered^ He 
said he was only instructed to deliver it to the lady with 
the box, and he showed me the queen's cipher. I took 
the letter ; and after partaking of some refreshments, re- 
turned with it according to my orders. 

On my arrival at Paris, the Princess Lamballe told me 
her motive for sending the express, who, she said, in- 
formed her, on his return, that I had a letter for the 
queen. I said it was more than I knew. '^ Oh, I sup- 
pose that is because the letter bears no address," replied 
she ; " but you wxre shown the cipher, and that is all 
which is necessary.'' 

She did not take the letter, and I could not help re- 
marking how far, in this instance, the rigour of etiquette 
was kept up even between these close friends. The 
princess not having herself received the letter could not 
take it from my hands to deliver without her majesty's 
express command. This bein,sf obtained, she asked me 



CHAPTER XVII. 269 

for it, and gave it to her majesty. The circumstance 
convinced me, that the princess exercised much less in- 
fluence over the queen, and was much more directed by 
hep majesty's authority, than has been imagined. 

Two or three days after my arrival at Paris, my ser- 
vant lost the key of my writing desk, and, to remedy the 
evil, he brought me the same locksmith I had employed 
on the repairs just mentioned. As it was necessary I 
should be present to remove my papers when the lock 
was taken off, of course I saw the man. While I was 
busy clearing the desk, with an air of great familiarity 
he said, ^^ I have had jobs to do here before now, my 
girl, as your sweetheart there well knows.'^ 

I humoured his mistake in taking me for my own maid 
and my servant's sweetheart, and I pertly answered, 
•* Very likely." 

" yes, I have,'' said he ; ^^ it was I who repaired 
the queen's boxes in this very room." 

Knowing I had never received any thing of the sort 
from her majesty, and utterly unaware that the boxes 
the princess sent to my apartments had been the queen's, 
I was greatly surprised. Seeing ray confusion, he said, 
^^ I know the boxes as well as I know myself. I am the 
king's locksmith, my dear, and I and the king worked 
together many years. Why I know every creek and 
corner of the palace, aye, and I know every thing that's 
going on in them too : — queer doings ! Lord, my pretty 
damsel, I made a secret place in the palace to hide the 
king's papers, where the devil himself would never find 
them out, if I or the king didn't tell!" 

Though I wished him, at the devil every moment he 
detained me from disclosing his information at the palace, 
yet 1 played off the soubrette upon him, till he became 
so interested, I thought he never would have gone. At 



270 CHAPTER XYII» 

last, however, he took his departure, and the moment he 
disappeared, out of the house I flew. 

The agitation and surprise of the princess at what I 
related were extreme. ^^ Wait," cried she : ^^ I must go 
and inform the queen instantly." In going out of the 
room, " Gi^an Dio, qiial scoperta ! Great God, what a 
discovery !" exclaimed her highness. 

It was not long before she returned. Luckily, I was 
dressed for dinner. She took me by the hand, and, un- 
able to speakj led me to the private closet of the queen. 

Her majesty graciously condescended to thank me foP 
the letter I had taken charge of. She told me, that for 
the future all letters to her would be without any super- 
scription ; and desired me, if any should be given to me 
by persons I had not before seen, and the cipher were 
shown at the same time, to receive and deliver them my- 
self into her hands, as the production of the cipher would 
be a sufficient pledge of their authenticity* 

Being desired to repeat the conversation with Gamin, 
'* There princess !" exclaimed her majesty, ^' JVon son 
io il corvo delle cative 7iotizie f am I not the crow of 
evil forebodings? I trust the king will never again be 
credulous enough to employ this man. I have long had 
an extreme aversion to his majesty's familiarity with him; 
but he shall hear his impudence himself from your own 
lips, my good little Englishwoman ; and then he will not 
think it is prepossession or prejudice." 

A few evenings elapsed, and I thought no more of the 
subject, till one night I was ordered to the palace by the 
princess, which never happened but on very particular 
occasions, as she was fearful of exciting suspicion by any 
appearance of close intimacy with one so much about Pa- 
ris upon the secret embassies of the court. 

When I entered the apartment; the king, the queen^ 



CHAPTER XVII, 271 

and the Princess Elizabeth were, as if by accident, in an 
adjoining room ; but, from what followed, I am certain 
they all came purposely to hear my deposition. I was 
presently commanded to present myself to the august 
party. 

The king was in deep conversation with the Princess 
Elizabeth. I must confess I felt rather embarrassed. I 
could not form an idea why I was thus honoured. The 
Princess Lamballe graciously took me by the hand. 

" Now tell his majesty, yourself, what Gamin said to 
you." 

I began to revive, perceiving now wherefore I was 
summoned. I accordingly related, in the presence of the 
royal guests assembled, as I had done before her majesty 
and the Princess Lamballe, the scene as it occurred. 

When I came to that part where he said, *^ where the 
devil himself could never find them out," his majesty 
approached from the balcony, at which he had been 
talking, with the Princess Elizabeth, and said, " Well ! 
he is very right— but neither he nor the devil shall 
find them out, for they shall be removed this very 
riight."* 

The king, the queen, and the Princess Elizabeth, most 
graciously said, ^^ JVoits sommes bien obliges y ma petite 
cmglaise P'' and her majesty added, "Now, my dear, tell 
me all the rest about this man, whom I have long suspect- 
ed for his wickedness." 

I said he had been guilty of no hostile indications, and 
that the chief fault I had to find with him was his ex- 
ceeding familiarity in mentioning himself before the king, 
saying, " I and the king." 

* "Which was done i and these are, therefore, no doubt, the 
papers and portfolio of which Madame Campan speaks, Vol. II. p. 
142, as having been entrusted to lier care, after being taken from 
tlieir hiding place by the king liimself' 



272 CHAPTER SVII. 

" Go on," said her majesty ; " give us the whole as it 
occurred, and let us form our own conclusions." 

"Yes," cried the Princess, ^^ parlate sciolto.^^ ^^ Si, 
si" rejoined the queen, "parlate tutto — yes, yes, speak 
out and tell us all." 

I then related the remainder of the conversation, 
which very much alarmed the royal party, and it was 
agreed that, to avoid suspicion, I should next day send 
for the locksmith, and desire him, as an excuse, to look 
at the locks of my trunks and travelling carriage, and 
set off in his presence, to take up my pretended mistress, 
on the road to Calais, that he might not suspect I had 
any connexion with any one about the court. I was 
strictly enjoined by her majesty to tell him, that the man 
servant had had the boxes from some one to get them re- 
paired, without either my knowledge or that of my 
mistress, and by her pretended orders, to give him a 
discharge upon the spot, for having dared to use her 
apartments, as a workshop for the business of other 
people. 

<' Now," said the Princess Lamballe, ^^fate la buffona 
come avete fatta col servo vostro e Gamin — now play the 
comic part you acted between your servant and Gamin :'^ 
which I did, as well as I could recollect it, and the royai 
audience were so much amused, that I had the honour to 
remain in the room and see them play at cards. At 
length, however, there came three gentle taps at the 
outer door, *^ Ora i tempo perche vene andata^^ ex° 
claimed her highness at the sound, having ordered a per= 
son to call, with this signal, to see me out of the palace 
to the Rue Nicaise, where ray carriage was in waiting to 
conduct me home. 

It is not possible for me to describe the gracious con- 
descension of the queen and the Princess Elizabeth, in. 
expressing their sentiments for the accidental discovery 



CHAFTKR XVIlo 273 

1 had madco Amid their assurances of tender interest 
and concern, they both reproved me mildly for my im- 
prudence in having, when I went to Brussels^ harried 
from Paris without my passport. They gave me pruden- 
tial cautions with regard to my future conduct and resi- 
dence at Paris ; and it was principally owing to the united 
persuasions and remonstrances of these three angels in 
human form, that I took six or seven different lodgings, 
where the Princess Lamballe used to meet me by turns ; 
because had I gone often to the palace, as many others 
did, or waited for her highness regularly in any one spot, 
I should, infallibly, have been discovered. 

^* Gracious God !" exclaimed her majesty in the course 
of this conversation, <^' am I born to be the misfortune of 
every one who shows an interest in serving me ! Tell 
my sister, when you return to Brussels again, — and do 
not forget to say I desired you to tell her, our cruel situ- 
ation ! She does not believe that we are surrounded by 
enemies even in our most private seclusions ! in our pri- 
son ! — that we are even thrown exclusively upon foreign- 
ers in our most confidential affairs ; that in France there 
is scarcely an individual to whom we can look ! They be- 
tray us for their own safety, which is endangered by any 
exertions in our favour. Tell her this," repeated the 
queen three or four times. 

The next day, I punctually obeyed my orders. Gamin 
was sent for to look at the locks, and received six francs 
for his opinion. The man servant was reproved by me, 
on behalf of my supposed mistress, and, in the presence 
of Gamin, discharged for having brought suspicious 
things into the house. The man being tutored in his 
part, begged Gamin to plead for my intercession with our 
mistress. I remained inexorable, as he knew I should. 
While Gamin was still by, I discharged the bill at the 

Mm 



274 CHAPTER XVII, 

house, got into my carriage, and took the road towards 
Calais. 

At Saint Denis, however, I feigned to be taken ill, 
and, in two days, returned back to Paris. 

Even this simple act required management. I con- 
trived it in the following manner. I walked out on the 
high road leading to the capital, for the purpose of 
meeting my servant at a place which had been fixed for 
the meeting before I left Paris. I found him on horse- 
back, at his post, with a carriage prepared for my re- 
turn. As soon as I was out of sight, he made the best 
of his way forward, went to the inn with a note from me^ 
and returned wuth ray carriage and baggage to lodgings I 
had at Passy. 

The joy of the princess on seeing me safe again 
brought tears into her eyes : and when I related the 
scene I played off before Gamin against my servant, she 
laughed most heartily. ^'•' But surely,'^ said she, ^' you 
have not really discharged the poor man ?" ** Oh no/^ 
replied I ; " he acted his part so well before the lock-» 
smith, that I should be very sorry to lose such an apt 
scholar.'' 

" You must perform this buffa scena,"' observed her 
highness, "to the queen. She has been very anxious to 
know the result ; but her spirits are so depressed, that I 
fear she will not come to my party this evening. How- 
ever, if she do not, I will see her to-morrow, and you 
shall make her laugh. It would be a charity, for she has 
not done so from the heart for many a day!" 



( 275 ) 



CHAPTER XVIIL 

Editor in continuation. — Mr. Burke. — His interest for the queen 
and royal cause misrepresented. — Proposes various schemes for 
averting the Revolution. — A secret and confidential ambassador 
being deemed necessary to communicate with the court of Eng- 
land, the Princess Lamballe thought of for the mission. — Per- 
sonages whom she cultivates when in England. — Her mission 
rendered unavailing by the troubles in France increasing. — 
Sends the editor to France for explicit instructions. — Distressed 
by the papers brought back, she prepares for her own return to 
France. — Her account of her reception in England, and what 
she means to do when in France. — Postscript. Public occur- 
rences in France during the absence of the princess. — Neckar. 
— ^His administration and final retirement. — French clergy.-— 
Their heartless conduct. — Talleyrand. — Barras. 

Every one who has read at all, is familiar with the 
immortal panegyric of the great Edmund Burke upon 
Maria Antoinette. It is known that this illustrious maa 
was not mean enough to flatter , yet his eloquent praises 
of her as a princess, a woman, and a beauty, inspiring 
something beyond what any other woman could excite, 
have been called flattery by those who never knew her 5 
those who did, must feel them to be, if possible, even 
below the truth. But the admiration of Mr. Burke was 
set down even to a baser motive, and, like every thing 
else, converted into a source of slander for political pur- 
poses, long before that worthy palladium of British 
liberty had even thought of interesting himself for the 
welfare of France, which his prophetic eye saw plainly 
was the common cause of all Europe. 

But, keenly as that great statesman looked into futuri' 



276 CHAPTER XVIII. 

ty, little did he think, when he visited the queen in all 
her splendour at Trianouj and spoke so warmly of the 
cordial reception he had met with at Versailles from the 
Duke and Dutchess de Polignac, that he should have so 
soon to deplore their tragic fate ! 

Could his suggestions to her majesty, when he was in 
France, have been put in force, there is scarcely a doubt 
that the revolution might have been averted, or crush- 
ed. But he did not limit his friendship to personal ad- 
vice. It is not generally known, that the queen carried 
on, through the medium of the Princess Lamballe, a 
very extensive correspondence with Mr. Burke, He 
recommended wise and vast plans; and these, if possi- 
ble, would have been adopted. The substance of some 
of the leading ones I can recall from the Journal of her 
highness, and letters which I have myself frequently de- 
ciphered. I shall endeavour, succinctly, to detail such 
of them as I remember. 

Mr. Burke recommended the suppression of all super- 
Huous religious institutions, which had not public semi- 
naries to support. Their lands he advised should be di- 
vided, without regard to any distinction but that of me- 
rit, among such members of the army and other useful 
classes of society, as, after having served the specified 
time, should have risen, through their good conduct, to 
either civil or military preferment. By calculations upon 
the landed interest, it appeared, that every individual^ 
under the operation of this bounty, would, in the course 
of twenty years, possess a yearly income of from five to 
seven hundred francs. 

Another of the schemes suggested by Mr. Burke was^ 
to purge the kingdom of all the troops which had been 
corrupted from their allegiance by the intrigues growing 
out of the first meeting of the Notables. He proposed^ 
that they should sail at the same time, or nearly so» to 



CHAPTER XVIII, 277 

be colonized in the different French islands and Mada- 
gascar ; and, in their place, a new national guard crea- 
ted, who should be bound to the interest of the legiti- 
mate government, by receiving the waste crown lands to 
be shared among them, from the common soldier to its 
generals and field marshals. Thus would the whole mass 
of rebellious blood have been reformed. To ensure an 
effectual change, Mr. Burke advised the enrolment, in 
rotation, of sixty thousand Irish troops,* twenty thou- 
sand always to remain in France, and forty thousand in 
reversion for the same service. The lynx-eyed states- 
man saw clearly, from the murders of the Marquis de 

* Mr. Burke was too great a statesman not to be the friend of 
his country's interest. He also saw, that from the destruction of 
the monarchy in France, England had more to fear than to gain. 
He well knew, that the French revolution was not, like that of 
the Americans, founded on grievances, and urged in support of a 
great and disinterested principle. He was aware, that so restless a 
people, when they had overthrown the monarchy, would not limit 
the overthrow to their own country. After Mr. Burke's death., 
Mr. Fox was applied to, and was decidedly of the same opinion. 
Mr. Sheridan was interrogated, and, at the request of the Prin- 
cess Lamballe, he presented, for the queen's inspection, plans 
nearly equal to those of the above two great statesmen ; and what 
is most singular and scarcely credible is, that one and all of the 
opposition party in England strenuously exerted themselves for the 
upholding of the monarchy in France. Many circumstances, 
which came to my knowledge before and after the death of Louis 
XVI., prove, that Mr. Pitt himself was averse to the republican 
principles being organized so near a constitutional monarchy as 
France was to Great Britain, Though the conduct of the Duke 
of Orleans was generally reprobated, I firmly believe, that if he 
had possessed sufficient courage to have usurped the crowc and 
re-established the monarchy, he would have been treated with in 
preference to the republicans. I am the more confirmed in this 
opinion, by a conversation between the Princess Lamballe and 
Mirabeau. in which he said a republic in France would never 
"thrive. 



278 CHAPTER XVIII. 

Launay and M. Flesselles, and from the destruction of the 
Bastille, and of the ramparts of Paris, that party had not 
armed itself against Louis, but against the throne» It 
was therefore necessary to produce a permanent revolu- 
tion in the army. 

There was another suggestion to secure troops around 
the throne of a more loyal temper. It was planned to 
incorporate all the French soldiers, who had not volunta- 
rily deserted the royal standard, with two thirds of 
Swiss, German, and Low Country forces, among whom 
were to be divided, after ten years' service, certain por- 
tions of the crown lands, which were to be held by pre= 
senting every year a flag of acknowledgment to the king 
and queen ; with the preference of serving in the civil 
or military departments, according to the merit or capa- 
city of the respective individuals. Messieurs de Brog- 
lio, Bouille, Luxembourg, and others, were to have been 
commanders. But this plan, like many others, was foil- 
ed in its birth, and it is said, through the intrigues of 
Mirabeau, 

However, all concurred in the necessity of ridding 
France, upon the most plausible pretexts, of the fomen- 
ters of its ruin. Now arose a fresh difficulty. Trans= 
ports were wanted, and in considerable numbers. 

A navy agent in England was applied to for the sup- 
ply of these transports. So great was the number re- 
quired, and so peculiar the circumstances, that the agent 
declined interfering without the sanction of his govern- 
ment. 

A new dilemma" succeeded. Might not the king of 
England place improper constructions on this extensive 
shipment of troops from the different ports of France for 
her West India possessions ! Might it not be fancied, 
that it involved secret designs on the British settlements 
in that quarter ? 



CHAPTER xvni. 279 

All these circumstances required that some communi- 
cation should be opened with the court of St. James's, 
and the critical posture of affairs exacted, that such com- 
munication should be less diplomatic than confidential. 

It will be recollected, that, at the very commencement 
of the reign of Louis XVI. there were troubles in Bri- 
tanny, which the severe governorship of the Duke d'Ai- 
guillon augmented. The Britons took privileges with 
them, when they became blended with the kingdom of 
France, by the marriage of Anne of Brittany with 
Charles VIII. beyond those of any other of its provinces. 
These privileges they seemed rather disposed to extend 
than relinquish, and were by no means reserved in the 
expression of their resolution. It was considered expe- 
dient to place a firm, but conciliatory, governor over 
them, and the Duke de Penthievre was appointed to this 
difficult trust. The duke was accompanied to his vice- 
royalty by his daughter-in-law, the Princess Lamballe, 
who, by her extremely judicious management of the fe- 
male part of the province did more for the restoration of 
order, than could have been achieved by armies. The 
remembrance of this circumstance induced the queen to 
regard her highness as a fit person to send secretly to 
England at this very important crisis; and the purpose 
was greatly encouraged by a wish to remove her from a 
scene of such daily increasing peril. 

For privacy, it was deemed expedient, that her high- 
ness should withdraw to Aumale, under the plea of ill 
health, and thence proceed to England ; and it was also 
by way of Aumale that she as secretly returned, after the 
fatal disaster of the stoppage, to discourage the impres- 
sion of her ever having been out of France, 

The mission was even unknown to the French minister 
at the court of St. James's. 

The princess was ordered by her majesty to cultivate 



^80 CHAPTER xviir. 

the acquaintance of the late Dutchess of Gordon, who was 
supposed to possess more influence than any woman in 
England, — in order to learn the sentiments of Mr. Pitt, 
relative to the revolutionary troubles. The dutchess, 
however, was too much of an Englishwoman, and Mr, 
Pitt too much interested in the ruin of France, to give 
her the least clue to the truth. 

In order to fathom the sentiments of the opposition 
party, the princess cultivated the society also of the late 
Dutchess of Devonshire, but with as little success. The 
opposition party foresaw too much risk in bringing any 
thing before the house, to alarm the prejudices of the 
nation. 

The French ambassador, too, jealous of the unexplain- 
ed purpose of the princess, did all he could to render 
her expedition fruitless. 

Nevertheless, though disappointed in some of her 
main objects with regard to influence and information, 
she became so great a favourite at the British court,*^ 

* The princess visited Bath, Windsor, Brighton, and many 
other parts of England, and associated with all parties. She man- 
aged her conduct so judiciously, that the real object of her visit 
was never suspected. In all these excursions, I had the honour 
to attend her confidentially. I was the only person intrusted 
with papers from her highness to her majesty. I had many tilings 
to copy, of which the originals went to France. 

Twice, during the term of her highness's residence in England, 
I was sent by her majesty, with papers communicating the result 
of the secret mission, to the queen of Naples. On the second of 
these two trips, being obliged to travel night and day, I could only 
keep my eyes open by means of the strongest coffee. When I 
reached my destination, I was immediately compelled to decipher 
the despatches with the Queen of Naples in the office of the se- 
cretary of state. That done. General Acton ordered some one, 
I know not whom, to conduct me, I know not where, but it was 
to a place where, after a sound sleep of twenty-four hours, I 
awoke thoroughly refreshed, and without a vestige of fatigue 



CHAPTER XVlIlo 281 

that she obtained full permission of the king and queen 
of England, to signify to her royal mistress and friend, 
that the specific request she came to make would be com- 
plied with» 

In the mean time, however, the troubles in France 
were so rapidly increasing from hour to hour, that it be- 
came impossible for the government to carry any of their 
plans into effect. This particular one, on the very eve 
of its accomplishment, was marred, as it was imagined, 
by the secret intervention of the friends of Mirabeau. 
The government became more and more infirm and wa- 
vering in its purposes ; the princess was left without in- 
structions, and under such circumstances, as to expose 
her to the supposition of having trifled with the good 
will of their majesties of England. 

In this dilemma, I was sent off from England to the 
queen of France. I left her highness at Bath, but when 
I returned she had quitted Bath for Brighton. I am unac- 
quainted with the nature of all the papers she received, 
but I well remember the agony they seemed to inflict on 
her. She sent off a packet by express that very night to 
Windsor. 

The princess immediately began the preparations for 
her return. Her own journal is explicit on this point of 
her history, and therefore I shall leave her to speak for 
herself. I must not, however, omit to mention the re- 
mark she made to me upon the subject of her reception 
in Great Britain. With these, let me dismiss the pre= 
sent chapter. 

either of mind or body. On waking, lest any thing should tran- 
spire, I was desired to quit Naples instantly, without seeing the 
British minister. 'To make assurance doubly sure,' General Acton 
sent a person from his office to accompany me out of the city on 
horseback j and, to screen me from the attack of robbers, this 
person went on with me as far as the Roman frontier. 

Nn 



2S'/i GHAl'TEll XVIII. 

i Tlie general cordiality with which I have been re« 
ceived in your country,' said her highness, ^ has made a 
lasting impression upon my heart. In particular, never 
shall I forget the kindness of the Queen of England, the 
Dutchess of Devonshire, and her truly virtuous mother, 
Lady Spencer. It gave me a cruel pang, to be obliged 
to undervalue the obligations with which they over- 
whelmed me, by leaving England as I did, without giving 
them an opportunity of carrying their good intentions, 
which I had myself solicited, into effect. But we can- 
not command fate. Now that the king has determined 
to accept the constitution (and you know my sentiments 
upon the article respecting ecclesiastics,) I conceive it 
my duty to follow their majesties' example in submitting 
to the laws of the nation. Be assured, Inglesina, it 
will be my ambition to bring about one of the happiest 
ages of French history. I shall endeavour to create that 
confidence, so necessary for the restoration to their na= 
tive land of the princes of the blood, and all the emi- 
grants who abandoned the king, their families, and their 
country, while doubtful whether his majesty would or 
would not concede this new charter ; but now that the 
doubt exists no longer, I trust we shall all meet again the 
happier for the privation, to which we have been doom- 
ed from absence. As the limitation of the monarchy re= 
moves every kind of responsibility from the monarch, the 
queen will again taste jfche blissful sweets she once enjoy- 
ed during the reign of Louis XV, in the domestic tran- 
quillity of her home at Trianon, Often has she wept 
those times in which she will again rejoice. Oh, how I 
long for their return ! I fly to greet the coming period 
of future happiness to us all \^ 



CH.VPTRT? yvTij, 283 

POSTCRIPT. 

Although I am not making myself the historian of 
France, yet it may not be amiss to mention, that it was 
during this absence of her highness that Neckar finally 
retired from power and from France. 

The return of this minister had been very much 
against the consent of her majesty and the king. They 
both feared what actually happened soon afterwards. 
They foresaw, that he would be swept away by the cur- 
rent of popularity, from his deference to the royal au- 
thority. It was to preserve the favour of the mob, that 
he allowed them to commit the shocking murders of M, 
de Foulon (who had succeeded him on his first dismission 
as minister of Louis XVI.,) and of Berthier, his son-in- 
law. The union of Neckar with Orleans, on this occa- 
sion, added to the cold indifference with which Barnave 
in one of his speeches expressed himself concerning the 
shedding of human blood, certainly animated the factious 
assassins to methodical murder, and frustrated all the ef- 
forts of La Fayette to save these victims from the en- 
raged populace, to whom both unfortunately fell a sacri- 
fice. 

Neckar, like La Fayette, when too late, felt the absur^ 
dity of relying upon the idolatry of the populace. The 
one fancied he could command the Parisian poissardes as 
easily as his own battalions; and the other persuaded 
himself, that the mob, which had been hired to carry 
about his bust, would as readily promulgate his theories. 

But he forgot, that the people, in their greatest inde- 
pendence, are only the puppets of demagogues; and he 
lost himself by not gaining over that class, which, of all 
others, possesses most power over the million, I mean, 
the men of the bar, who, arguing more logically than 
the rest of the world, felt, that, from the new constitu- 



284 CHAPTER xviir. 

tion, the long robe was playing a losing game, and there- 
fore discouraged a system, which offered nothing to their 
personal ambition or private emolument. Lawyers, like 
priests, are never over-ripe for any changes or innova- 
tions, except such as tend to their personal interest. 
The more perplexed the state of public and private af- 
fairs, the better for them. Therefore, in revolutions, as 
a body, they remain neuter, unless it is made for their 
benefit to act. Individually, they are a set of necessary 
evils ; and, for the sake of the bar, the bench, and the 
gibbet, require to be humoured. But any legislator who 
attempts to render laws clear, concise, and explanatory, 
and to divest them of the quibbles whereby these ex- 
pounders, or confounders of codes, fatten on the creduli- 
ty of states and the miseries of unfortunate millions, will 
necessarily encounter opposition, direct or indirect, in 
every measure at all likely to reduce the influence of 
this most abominable horde of human depredators,, It 
was Neckar's error to have gone so directly to the point 
with the lawyers, that they at once saw his scope 5 and 
thus he himself defeated his hopes of their support, the 
want of which utterly baffled all his speculations.* 

When Neckar undertook to re-establish the finances, 
and to reform generally the abuses in the government, he 
was the most popular minister (Lord Chatham, when the 
great Pitt, excepted) of any in Europe. Yet his errors 
were innumerable, though possessing such sound know- 
ledge and judgment, such a superabundance of political 
contrivance, diplomatic coolness, and mathematical calcu- 



* The great Frederick of Prussia, on being told of the numbers 
of lawyers there were in England, said, he wished he had them in 
his country. " Why?" some one inquired. " To do the greatest 
benefit in my power to society." — " How so ?'' — " Why to hang 
one-half as an example to the other!" 



ciT\PTER xviri. 285 

lation^ the result of deep thought aided by great practi- 
cal experience. 

But how futile he made all these appear, when he 
declared the national bankruptcy. Could any thing be 
more absurd than the assumption, by the individual, of a 
personal, instead of a national guarantee, of part of a 
national debt ? an undertaking too hazardous, and by far 
too ambiguous, even for a monarch, who is not backed 
by his kingdom — how doubly frantic, then, for a sub- 
ject? Neckar imagined, that the above declaration, and 
his own Quixotic generosity, would have opened the 
coffers of the great body of rich proprietors, and brought 
them forward, to aid the national crisis. But he was 
mistaken. The nation then had no interest in his finan- 
cial system. The eifect it produced was the very re- 
verse of what was expected. Every proprietor began to 
fear the ambition of the minister, who undertook impos- 
sibilities. The being bound for the debts of an indivi- 
dual, and justifying bail in a court of law in commercial 
matters, aifords no criterion for judging of, or regulating, 
the pecuniary difficulties of a nation. Neckar's conduct 
in this case was, in my humble opinion, as impolitic as 
that of a man, who, after telling his friends, that he is 
ruined past redemption, asks for a loan of money. The 
conclusion is, if he obtain the loan, that ^* the fool and 
his money are soon parted.''* 

It was during the same interval of her highness's stay 
in England, that the discontents ran so high between the 
people and the clergy, 

* I prognosticate, that all money conccinSj uiiich may take place 
in Spain, unless guaranteed by the nation to the nation whose in- 
dividuals undertake the supply, will end in the ruin of those who 
may credulously be led, for a momentary advantage, to assist in 
its promulgation ; that, in short, it will terminate, as the French 
paper did, frpm the million to one. 



286 CHAPTER XVIII. 

I have frequently heard the Princess Lamballe ascribe 
the king's not sanctioning the decrees against the clergy 
to the influence of his aunt, the Carmelite nun, Madame 
Louise. During the life of her father, Louis XV. she 
nearly engrossed all the church benefices by her in- 
trigues. She had her regular conckves of all orders of 
the church. From the bishop to the sexton, all de- 
pended on her for preferment ; and, till the revolution, 
she maintained equal power over the mind of Louis XVL 
upon similar matters. The queen would often express 
her disapprobation; but the king was so scrupulous^ 
whenever the discussion fell on the topic of religion, that 
she made it a point not to contrast her opinion with his^ 
from a conviction that she was unequal to cope with 
Iiim on that head, upon which he was generally very 
animated. 

It is perfectly certain, that the French clergy, by re- 
fusing to contribute to the exigencies of the state, created 
some of the primary horrors of the revolution. They 
enjoyed one third of the national revenues, yet they 
were the first to withhold their assistance from the na- 
tional wants. I have heard the Princess Lamballe say, 
^^ The Princess Elizabeth and myself used our utmost 
exertions to induce some of the higher orders of the 
clergy to set the example and obtain for themselves the 
credit of ofi'ering up a part of the revenues, the whole 
of which we knew must be forfeited, if they continued 
obstinate ; but it was impossible to move them.*' 

The characters of some of the leading dignitaries of 
the time sufficiently explain their selfish and pernicious 
conduct; when churchmen trifle with the altar, be their 
motives what they may, they destroy the faith they 
profess, and give examples to the flock entrusted to their 
care, of which no foresight can measure the baleful con- 
sequences. Who that is false to his God can be ex- 



CIIAPTEK XYIII. 287 

pected to remain faithful to his sovereign ? When a man, 
as a Catholic bishop, marries ; and, under the mask of 
patriotism, becomes the declared tool of all -work to every 
faction, and is the weathercock, shifting to any quarter 
according to the wind ; such a man can be of no real ser- 
vice to any party : and yet has a man of this kind been 
|)y turns the primum mobile of them all, even to the 
present times, and was one of those great church fomen- 
ters of the troubles of which we speak, who disgraced 
the virtuous reign of Louis XVI. 



( 288 ) 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Narrative continued by the Editor.- — Various schemes suggested 
for the escape of the royal family from France. — The queen re- 
fuses to go without her family. — Pope Pius VI. the only sove- 
reign who offered his aid. — Fatal attempt at last to escape. — 
Causes of its failure. — Death of Mirabeau. 

Amidst the perplexities of the royal family, it was 
perfectly unavoidable, that repeated proposals should 
have been made at various times for them to escape these 
dangers by flight. The queen had been frequently and 
most earnestly entreated to withdraw alone ; and the 
king, the Princess Elizabeth, the Princess Lamballe, the 
royal children, with their little hands uplifted, and all 
those attached to Maria Antoinette, after the horrid bu- 
siness at Versailles, united to supplicate her to quit 
France, and shelter herself from the peril hanging over 
her existence. Often and often have I heard the Princess 
Lamballe repeat the words in which her majesty uniform- 
ly rejected the proposition. " I have no wish," cried 
the queen, "for myself. My life or death must be en- 
circled by the arms of my husband and my family. With 
them, and with them only, will I live or die." 

It would have been impossible to persuade her to leave 
France without her children. If any woman on earth 
could have been justified in so doing, it would have been 
Maria Antoinette, But she was above such unnatural 
selfishness, though she had so many examples to encour- 
age her ; for, even amongst the members of her own fa- 
mily, self preservation had been coBsidered paramount to 
every other consideration. 



I have heard the princess say, that Pope Pius VI. was 
the only one of all the sovereigns, vvlio offered the slighest 
condolence or assistance to Louis XVI. and his family. 
" The Pope's letter," added she, ^^ when shown to me 
by the queen, drew tears from my eyes. It really was in 
a style of such Christian tenderness and princely feeling, 
as could only be dictated by a pious and illuminated head 
of the Christian Church. He implored not only all the 
family of Louis XVI. but even extended his entreaties to 
me (the Princess Lamballe) to leave Paris, and save 
themselves by taking refuge in his dominions, from the 
horrors which so cruelly overwhelmed them. The king's 
aunts were the only ones who profited by the invitation. 
Madame Elizabeth was to have been of the party, but 
could not be persuaded to leave the king and queen.'' 

As the clo'.ids grew more threatening, it is scarcely to 
be credited how many persons interested themselves for 
the same purpose, and what numberless schemes were 
devised to break the fetters which had been imposed on 
the royal family by their jailers, the assembly. 

A party, unknown to the king and queen, was even 
forming under the direction of the Princess Elizabeth ; 
but as soon as their majesties were apprized of it, it was 
given up as dangerous to the interests of the royal fami- 
ly, because it thwarted the plans of the Marquis de 
Bouille. Indeed, her majesty could never be brought to 
determine on any plan for her own or the king's safety;, 
until their royal aunts, the Princesses Victoria and Ade- 
laide, had left Paris. 

The first attempt to fly was made early in the year 
1791, at St. Cloud, were the horses had been in prepara- 
tion nearly a fortnight ; but the scheme was abandoned 
in consequence of having been intrusted to too many per- 
sons. This the queen acknowledged. She had it often 





290 CHAPTER XlX 

in her power to escape alone with her son, but would not 
consent. 

The second attempt was made in the spring of the 
same year at Paris. The guards shut the gates of the 
Thuilleries, and would not allow the king's carriage to 
pass. Even though a large sum of money had been ex- 
pended to form a party to overpower the mutineers, the 
treacherous mercenaries did not appear. The expedi- 
tion was, of course, obliged to be relinquished. Many 
of the royal household were very ill treated, and some 
lives unfortunately lost. 

At last, the deplorable journey did take place. The 
intention had been communicated by her majesty to the 
Princess Lamballe before she went abroad, and it was 
agreed^ that, whenever it was carried into effect, the 
queen should write to her highness from Montmedi, 
where the two friends were once more to have been re- 
united. 

Soon after the departure of the princess, the arrange- 
ments for the fatal journey to Varennes were commenced, 
but with blameable and fatal carelessness. 

Mirabeau was the first person who advised the king to 
withdraw , but he recommended, that it should be alone, 
or, at most, with the dauphin only. He was of opinion, 
that the overthrow of the constitution could not be achie- 
ved while the royal family remained in Paris. His first 
idea was, that the king should go to the sea coast, where 
he would have it in his power instantly to escape to Eng- 
land, if the Assembly, through his (Mirabeau's) means^ 
did not comply with the royal propositions. Though 
many of the king's advisers were for a distinct and open 
rejection of the constitution, it was the decided impres- 
sion of Mirabeau, that he ought to stoop to conquer, and 
temporize by an instantaneous acceptance, through which 



CHAPTER XIX, 291 

he might gain time to put himself in an attitude to make 
such terms, as would at once neutralize the act and the 
faction by which it was forced upon him. Others ima- 
gined, that his majesty was too conscientious to avail him- 
self of any such subterfuge ; and that, having once given 
his sanction, he would adhere to it rigidly. This third 
party of the royal counsellors were therefore for a cau- 
tious consideration of the document, clause by clause, 
dreading the consequences of an ex ahrupto signature in 
binding the sovereign, not only against his policy, but 
his will. 

In the midst of all these distracting doubts, however, 
the departure was resolved upon. Mirabeau had many 
interviews with the Count de Fersan upon the subject. 
It was his great object, to prevent the flight from being 
encumbered. But the king would not be persuaded to 
separate himself from the queen and the rest of the fa- 
mily, and intrusted the project to too many advisers. 
Had he been guided by Fersan only, he would have suc- 
ceeded. 

The natural consequence of a secret being in so many 
hands was felt in the result. Those whom it was most 
importance to keep in ignorance were the first on the 
alert. The weakness of the queen, in insisting upon 
taking a remarkable dressing case with her, and \o get 
it away unobserved, ordering a fac-simile to be made un- 
der the pretext of intending it as a present to her sister 
at Brussels, awakened the suspicion of a favourite, but 
false female attendant, then intriguing with the aide-de- 
camp of La Fayette. The rest is easily to be conceived. 
The assembly were apprized of all the preparations for 
the departure a week or more before it occurred. La 
Fayette himself, it is believed, knew and encouraged it, 
that he might have the glory of stopping the fugitive 
himself; but he was over-ruled bv the assembly. 



292 CHAPTER XIX. 

When the secretary of the Austrian ambassador came 
publicly^ by arrangement, to ask permission of the 
queen to take the model of the dressing-case in questionj 
the very woman to whom I have alhided was in attend- 
ance at her majesty's toilette. The paramour of the 
woman was with her, watching the motions of the royal 
family on the night they' passed from their own apart- 
ments to those of the Duke de Villequie in order to get 
into the carriage 5 and by this paramour was La Fayette 
instantly informed of the departure. The traitress dis- 
covered, that her majesty was on the eve of setting off, 
by seeing her diamonds packed up. All these things 
were fully known to the assembly, of which the queen 
herself was afterwards apprized by the mayor of Paris.* 

In the suite of the Count de Eersan^f there was a 
young Swede who had an intrigue purposely with one of 
the queen's women, from whom he obtained many im- 
portant disclosures relative to the times. The Swede 
mentioned this to his patron, who advised her majesty to 
discharge a certain number of these women, among whom 
was the one who afterv/ards proved her betrayer. It, 
was suggested to dismiss a number at once, that the guil- 
ty person might not suspect the exclusion to be levelled 
against her in particular. Had the queen allowed herself 
to be directed in this affair by Fersan, the chain of com- 
munication would have been broken, and the royal fami- 

* See Madame Campan's work, page 146, vol. II. 

t Alvise de Pisani, the last Venetian ambassador to the kingj 
who was my husband's particular friend, and with whom I was 
myself long acquainted, and have been ever since to this day, 
as well as with all his noble family, during ray many years' resi- 
dence at Venice, told me this circumstance while walking with 
Mm at his country seat at Stra, whicli was subsequently taken 
from him by Napoleon, and made the imperial palace of the vice° 
roy, and is now that of the derman reignin*? prince^ 



CHAPTEK XIX. 293 

iy would not" have been stopped at Varennes, but have 
got clear out of France, many hours before they could 
have been perceived by the assembly ; but her majesty 
never could believe, that she had any thing to fear from 
the quarter against which she was warned. 

It is not generally known, that a very considerable 
sum had been given to the head recruiting serjeant, Mi- 
rabeau, to enlist such of the constituents as could be 
won with gold to be ready with a majority in favour of 
the royal fugitives. But the death of Mirabeau, pre- 
vious to this event, leaves it doubtful how far he dis- 
tributed the bribes conscientiously ; indeed it is rather to 
be questioned whether he did not retain the money, or 
much of it, in his own hands, since the strongly hoped 
for and dearly paid majority never gave proof of exist- 
ence, either before or after the journey to Varennes. 
Immense bribes were also given to the mayor of Paris, 
which proved equally ineffective. 

Had Mirabeau lived till the affair of Varennes, it is 
not impossible, that his genius might have given a dif- 
ferent complexion to the result. , He had already treated 
with the queen and the princess for a reconciliation ; and 
in the apartments of her highness, disguised in a raonk^s 
dress, had frequent evening, and early morning, audi- 
ences of the queen. 

It is pretty certain, however, that the recantation of 
Mirabeau, from avowed democracy to aristocracy and 
royalty, through the medium of enriching himself by a 
mlva regina, made his friends prepare for him that just 
retribution, which ended in a de profundis. At a period 
when all his vices were called to aid one virtuous action, 
his thread of vicious life was shortened, and he, no 
doubt, became the victim of his insatiable avarice. That 
he was poisoned is not to be disproved ; though it was 



294 CHAPTER XIX, 

thought necessary to keep it from the knowledge of the 
people. 

I have often heard her highness say, " When I reflect 
on the precautions which were taken to keep the inter- 
views with Mirabeau profoundly secret ; that he never 
conversed but with the king, the queen, and myself ; his 
untimely death must be attributed to his own indiscreet 
enthusiasm, in having confidentially entrusted the success 
with which he flattered himself, from the ascendency he 
had gained over the court, to some one who betrayed 
him. His death, so very unexpectedly, and at that crisis, 
made a deep impression on the mind of the queen. She 
really believed him capable of redressing the monarchy, 
and he certainly was the only one of the turncoat con- 
stitutionalists in whom she placed any confidence^ Would 
to heaven that she had had more in Barnave, and that 
she had listened to Dumourier! These / would have 
trusted, more, far more readily than the mercenary Mi» 
rabeau!" 

I now return, once more, to the journal of the princess. 



( 295 ) 



CHAPTER XX. 

Journal resumed, — The Princess Lamballe receives a ring from 
the queen, set with her own hair, which had wliitened from 
grief. — Letter of the queen to the Princess Lamballe. — ^Joy of 
the royal family on the return of her highnesss to Paris. — Meet- 
ing with the queen. — Conversation with her majesty on the 
state of the nation, and remedies for its disorders. — Deputies 
attend the drawing-room, of the princess. — Barnave and others 
persuade her to attend the debates of the assembly. — She hears 
Robespierre denounce the deputies who caused her attendance. 
— Earnestness of the king and queen in their behalf. — Robes- 
pierre bribed to suspend the accusation. — Fetes on the accept- 
ance of the constitution. — Insults to the royal party. — Agony 
of the queen on her return. — Conversation with M. de Mont- 
morin on plans necessary to be pursued, — Determination for the 
queen to go to Vienna. 

*In the midst of the perplexing debates upon the 
course most advisable with regard to the constitution after 
the unfortunate return from Varennes, I sent off my lit- 
tle English amanuensis to Paris, to bring me, through the 
means of another trusty person I had placed about the 
queen, the earliest information concerning the situation 
of affairs. On her return, she brought me a ring, which 
her majesty had graciously condescended to send me, set 
with her own hair, which had whitened like that of a 
person of eighty, from the anguish the Varennes affair 
had wrought upon her mind; and bearing the inscrip- 
tion, " Bleached by sorrow." This ring was accompa- 
nied by the following letter : 

' " My dearest friend, 
^ ^^ The king has made up his mind to the acceptance 
of the constitution, and it will ere long -be proclaimed 



296 CHAPTER XX, 

publicly. A few days ago, I was secretly waited upon 
and closeted in your apartment with many of our faithful 
friends, — in particular, Alexander Lameth, Duport, Bar- 
nave, Montmorin, Bertrand de Moleville, et cetera. 
The two latter opposed the king's council, the ministers, 
and the numerous other advisers of an immediate and un- 
scrutinizing acceptance. They were a small minority, 
and could not prevail with me to exercise my influence 
with his majesty in support of their opinion, when all 
the rest seemed so confident, that a contrary course 
must re-establish the tranquillity of the nation and our 
own happiness, weaken the party of the jacobins against 
us, and greatly increase that of the nation in our faydur. 
^ " Your absence obliged me to call Elizabeth to my 
aid, in managing the coming and going of the deputies 
to and from the pavilion of Flora, unperceived by the 
spies of our enemies. She executed her charge so 
adroitly, that the visiters were not seen by any of the 
household. Poor Elizabeth ! little did I look for such 
circumspection in one so unacquainted with the intrigues 
of court, or the dangers surrounding us, which they would 
now fain persuade us no longer exist, God grant it may 
be so ! and that I may once more freely embrace and open 
my heart to the only friend I have nearest to it. But 
though this is my most ardent wish, yet, my dear, dearest 
Lamballe, I leave it to yourself to act as your feelings 
dictate. Many about us profess to see the future as clear- 
as the sun at noon day. But, I confess, my vision is still 
dim. I cannot look into events with the security of 
others who confound logic with their wishes. The king, 
Elizabeth, and all of us, are anxious for your return. 
But it would grieve us sorely for you to come back to 
such scenes as you have already witnessed. Judge and 
act from your own impressions. If we do not see you, 
send me the" result of your interview at the preci= 



CHAPTER XX. 297 

pice.* Vostra cava picciola Inglesina]- will deliver 
you many letters. After looking over the envelopes^ 
you will either send her with them, as soon as possible, 
or forward them as addressed, as you may think most ad- 
viseable at the time you receive them. 

Ever, ever, and for ever, 
. Your aifeetionate 

Marie Antoinette." 

^ There was another hurried and abrupt note from 
her majesty among these papars, obviously written later 
than the first. It lamented the cruel privations to which 
she was doomed at the Thuilleries, in consequence of 
the impeded flight, and declared that what the royal fami- 
ly were forced to suffer from being totally deprived of 
every individual of their former friends and attendants to 
condole with, excepting the equally oppressed and un- 
happy princess Elizabeth, was utterly insupportable. 

' On the receipt of these much esteemed epistles, I re- 
turned, as my duty directed, to the best of queens and 
most sincere of friends. My arrival at Paris, though so 
much wished for, was totally unexpected. 

^ At our first meeting, the queen was so agitated, that 
she was utterly at a loss to explain the satisfaction she 
felt in beholding me once more near her royal person. 
Seeing the ring on my finger, which she had done me 
the honour of sending me, she pointed to her hair, 
once so beautiful, but now, like that of an old woman, 
not only gray, but deprived of all its softness, quite stiiF 
and dried up. 

^ Madame Elizabeth, the king, and the rest of our 

* The name the queen gave to Mr. Pitt, 
t The appellation by which the princess and her majesty always 
condescended to distinguish me. 



298 CHAPTER XX. 

little circle, lavished on me the most endearing caresses. 
The dear dauphin said to me " You will not go away 
again, I hope, princess ? Oh, mamma has cried so since 
you left us !" 

* I had wept enough before, but this dear little angel 
brought tears into the eyes of us alL 

^When I mentioned to her majesty the affectionate 
sympathy expressed by the king and queen of England 
in her suiferings, and their regret at the state of public 
affairs in France. "It is most noble and praiseworthy 
in them to feel thus," exclaimed Maria Antoinette ; 
" and the more so considering the illiberal part imputed 
1,0 us against those sovereigns in the rebellion of their 
ultramarine subjects, to which, Heaven knows, I never 
gave my approbation. Had I done so, how poignant 
would be my remorse at the retribution of our own suf- 
ferings, and the pity of those I had so injured! No. I 
was perhaps the only silent individual amongst millions of 
infatuated enthusiasts at General La Fayette's return to 
Paris, nor did I sanction any of the fetes given to Dr. 
Franklin, or the American ambassadors at the time. I 
could not conceive it prudent, for the queen of an abso= 
lute monarchy to countenance any of their new fangled 
philosophical experiments with my presence. Now, I 
feel the reward in my own conscience, I exult in my 
freedom from a self reproach, which would have been 
altogether insupportable under the kindness of which you 
speako" 

^ As soon as I was settled in my apartment which was 
on the same floor with that of the queen, she conde- 
scended to relate to me every particular of her unfortu- 
nate journey. I saw the pain it gave her to retrace the 
scenes, and begged her to desist till time should have, in 
some degree, assuaged the poignancy of her feelings. 
«« That/' cried she^ embracing me^ «• can never be I 



CHAPTER XX. 299 

Never, never will that horrid circumstance of my life 
lose its vividness in my recollection. What agony, to 
have seen those faithful servants tied before us on the 
carriage, like common criminals ! All, all may be attri- 
buted to the king's goodness of heart, which produces 
want of courage, nay, even timidity, in the most trying 
scenes. As poor King Charles the First, when he was 
betrayed in the Isle of Wight would have saved himself, 
and perhaps thousands, had he permitted the sacrifice of 
one traitor, so might Louis XVI. have averted calamities 
so fearful, that I dare not name, though I distinctly fore- 
see them, had he exerted his authority, where he only 
called up his compassion." 

' ^' For Heaven's sake," replied I, ^^ do not torment 
yourself by these cruel recollections !" 

'^ " These are gone by," continued her majesty, " and 
greater still than even these. How can I describe my 
grief at what I endured in the assembly, from the studi- 
ed humiliation to which the king and the royal authority 
were there reduced, in the face of the national represen- 
tatives ! from seeing the king on his return choaked with 
anguish at the mortifications to which I was doomed to 
behold the majesty of a French sovereign humbled! 
These events bespeak clouds, which like the horrid wa- 
ter spout at sea, nothing can dispel but cannon! The 
dignity of the crown, the sovereignty itself is threaten- 
ed ; and this I shall write this very night to the empe- 
ror. I see no hope of internal tranquillity without the 
powerful aid of foreign force.* The king has allowed 

* The only difference of any moment which ever existed be- 
tween the qu6en and the Princess Lamballe, as to their sentiments 
on the revolution, was on this subject. Her highness wished Ma- 
ria Antoinette to rely on the many persons who had offered and 
promised to serve the cause of the monarchy with their internal 
resources, and not depend on the princes and foreign armies. 



300 CHAPTER XX. 

himself to be too much led, to attempt to recover his 
power through any sort of mediation. Still the very 
idea of owing our liberty to a foreign army distracts me 
for the consequences." 

^ My re-instatement in my apartments at the pavilion 
of Flora seemed not only to give universal satisfaction to 
every individual of the royal family, but it was hailed 
with much enthusiasm by many deputies of the constitu- 
ent assembly, I was honoured with the respective 
visits of all who were in any degree well disposed to the 
royal cause. 

* One day, when Barnave and others were present 
with the queen, " Now," exclaimed one of the deputies, 
^^ now that this good princess is returned to her adopted 
country, the active zeal of her highness, coupled with 
your majesty's powerful influence over the mind of the 
king for the welfare of his subjects, will give fresh vigour 
to the full execution of the constitution." 

* My visiters were earnest in their invitations for me 
to go to the assembly to hear an interesting discussion, 
which was to be brought forward upon the king's spon- 
taneous acceptance of the constitution. 

^ I went ; and amidst the plaudits for the good king's 

This salutary advice she never could enforce on the queen's mind, 
though she had to that effect been importuned by upwards of two 
hundred persons, all zealous to show their penitence for former er- 
rors by their present devotedness. 

" Whenever," observed her highness, " we came to that point, 
the queen (upon seriously reflecting that these persons had been 
active instruments in promoting the first changes in the monarchy^ 
for which she never forgave them from her heart) would hesitate 
and doubt ; and never could I bring her majesty definitely to be- 
lieve the profFerers to be sincere. Hence, they were trifled with, 
till one by one she either lost them, or saw them sacrificed to an 
attachment, which her own distrust and indecision rendered fruit- 
less." 



CHAPTER XX. 301 

condescension, how was ray heart lacerated to hear Ro- 
bespierre denounce three of the most distinguished of the 
members, who had requested my attendance, as traitors 
to their country ! 

^ This was the first and only assembly discussion I ever 
attended ; and how dearly did I pay for my curiosity. I 
was accompanied by ray cava Inglesina, who, always on 
the alert, exclaimed, ^^ Let me entreat your highness not 
to remain any longer in this place. You are too deeply 
moved to dissemble." 

' I took her judicious advice, and the moment I could 
leave the assembly unperceived, I hastened back to the 
queen to beg her, for God's sake, to be upon her guard ; 
for, from what I had just heard at the assembly, I feared 
the jacobins had discovered her plans with Barnave, 
Lameth, Duport, and others of the royal party. Her 
countenance, for some minutes, seemed to be the only 
sensitive part of her. It was perpetually shifting from a 
high florid colour to the paleness of death. When her 
first emotions gave way to nature, she threw herself into 
my arms, and, for some time, her feelings were so over- 
come by the dangers which threatened these worthy men, 
that she could only in the bitterness of her anguish ex- 
claim, '^ Oh! this is all on my account!" And I think 
she was almost as much alarmed for the safety of these 
faithful men, as she had been for that of the king on the 
17th of July, when the jacobins in the Champ de Mars 
called out to have the king brought to trial ; — a day of 
which the horrors were never effaced from her memory ! 

■^The king and the Princess Elizabeth fortunately 
came in at the moment ; but even our united efforts were 
unavailable. The grief of her majesty at feeling herself 
the cause of the misfortunes of these faithful adherents, 
now devoted victims of their earnestness in foiling the 
machinations against the liberty and life of the king and 



S02 CHAPTER XX. 

herself, made her nearly frantic. She too well knew, 
that to be accused was to incur instant death. That she 
retained her senses under the convulsion of her feelings 
can only be ascribed to that wonderful strength of mind, 
which triumphed over every bodily weakness, and still 
sustains her under every emergency. 

* The king and the Princess Elizabeth, by whom Bar- 
nave had been much esteemed ever since the journey 
from Varennes, were both inconsolable, I really believe 
the queen entirely owed her instantaneous recovery from 
that deadly lethargic state, in which she had been thrown 
by her grief for the destined sacrifice, to the exuberant 
goodness of the king's heart, who instantly resolved to 
compromise his own existence to save those who had for- 
feited theirs for him and his family, 

* Seeing the emotion of the queen, ** I will go myself 
to the assembly," said Louis XVI. " and declare their 
innocence!" 

* The queen sprang forward, as if on the wings of an 
angel, and grasping the king in her arms, cried, ^^ Will 
you hasten their deaths by confirming the impression of 
your keeping up an understanding with them? Gracious 
Heaven ! Oh that I could recall the acts of attachment 
they have shown us, since to these they are now falling 
victims ! I would save them," continued her majesty, 
^« with my own blood, but, sire, it is useless. We should 
only expose ourselves to the vindictive spirit of the ja- 
cobins without aiding the cause of our devoted friends.''' 

' " Who," asked she, *^ was the guilty wretch that 
accused our unfortunate Barnave?" 

^ " Robespierre." 

•"Robespierre!" echoed her majesty. "Oh God! 
then he is numbered with the dead ! This fellow is too 
fond of blood to be tempted with money. But you, sire^ 
must not interfere!" 



CHAPTEll XX. 303 

^ Notwithstanding these doubts, however, I undertook, 
at the king and queen's most earnest desire, to get some 
one to feel the pulse of Robespierre, for the salvation of 
these our only palladium to the constitutional monarchy. 
To the first application, though made through the medi- 
um of one of his earliest college intimates, Carrier, the 
wretch was utterly deaf and insensible. Of this failure, 
I hastened to apprize her majesty. *^Was any sum," 
asked she, <^ named as a compensation for suspending this 
trial?" — "None," replied I; "I had no commands to 
that effect." — " Then let the attempt be renewed, and 
back it with the argument of a check for a hundred 
thousand livres on M. Laborde. He has saved my life 
and the king's, and, as far as is in my power, I am de- 
termined to save his. Barnave has exposed his life more 
than any of our unfortunate friends, and if we can but 
succeed in saving him, he will speedily be enabled to 
save his colleagues. Should the sum I name be insufl5.« 
eient, my jewels shall be disposed of to make up a larger 
one. Fly to your agent, dear princess! Lose not a mo- 
ment to intercede in behalf of these our only true friends!" 

i I did so, and was fortunate enough to gain over to 
my personal entreaties one who had the courage to pro- 
pose the business ; and 150,000 livres procured then a 
suspension of accusation. All, however, are still watch- 
ed with such severity of scrutiny, that I tremble, even 
now, for the result.* 

• And with reason j for all, eventually, were sacrificed upon 
the scaffold. Carrier was the factotum in all tlie cool deliberate 
sanguinary operations of Robespierre ; when he saw the check he 
said to the Princess of Lamballe: " Madame though your person- 
al charms and mental virtues, had completely influenced all the 
authority I could exercise in favour of your protege, without this 
interesting argument I should not have had courage to have renew- 
ed the business with the principal agent of life arid death." 



304 CHAPTER XX= 

^ It was in the midst of such apppehensions, which 
struck terror into the hearts of the king and queen, that 
the Thuilleries resounded with cries of multitudes hired 
to renew those shouts of '^ Vive le roi ! vive la famille 
royale !" which were once spontaneous. 

' In one of the moments of our deepest affliction, mul- 
titudes were thronging the gardens and enjoying the ce- 
lebration of the acceptance of the constitution. What a 
contrast to the feelings of the unhappy inmates of the 
palace! We may well say, that many an aching heart 
rides in a carriage, while the pedestrian is happy ! 

^ The fetes on this occasion were very brilliant. The 
king, the queen, and the royal family were invited to 
take part in this first national festival. They did so, by 
appearing in their carriage through the streets of Paris* 
and the Champs Elisees, escorted only by the Parisian 
guard, there being no other at the time. The mob was 
so great, that the royal carriage could only keep pace 
with the foot passengers. 

* Their majesties were in general well received. The 
only exceptions were a few of the jacobin members of 
the assembly, who, even on this occasion, sought every 
means to afflict the hearts and shock the ears of their 
majesties, by causing republican principles to be vocife- 
rated at the very doors of their carriage. 

«The good sense of the king and queen prevented 
them from taking any notice of these insults while in 
public ; but no sooner had they returned to the castle^ 
than the queen gave way to her grief at the premediated 
humiliation she was continually witnessing to the majesty 
of the constitutional monarchy; an insult less to the 
king himself than to the nation, which had acknowledged 
him their sovereign, 

* When the royal party entered the apartment, they 
found M, de Montmorin with me^ who had come to talk 



CHAPTER XX. 305 

over these matters, secure that at such a moment we 
should not be surprised. 

^ On hearing the queen's observation, M. de Montmo- 
rin made no secret of the necessity there was of their 
majesties' dissembling their feelings; the avowal of which, 
he said, would only tend to forward the triumph of jaco- 
binism, ^^ which," added he, "lam sorry to see pre- 
dominates in the assembly, and keeps in subordination all 
the public and private clubs„'" 



?? -r« 



* I recollect a letter from the Princess Lambalie to iKe queen 
iipoa the subject of the constitution and its supporters, in which 
her highness observes, tliat slie believed Barnave, Duport, La- 
meth, and the 62 other deputies detached by them from the left- 
side of the assembly, to be the only members who entered bona 
fide into the spirit of the times. The princess was persuaded, 
that they, and they only, were sincerely disposed to uphold the 
constitutional monarchy ; and she earnestly advised her majesty 
to profit by their counsel, and warned her against all the rest, 
whom she deemed actuated by private motives, personal resent- 
ments, or ambition ; — treacherous conspirators, looking to their 
own aggrandizement, building chateaux en Espagne, or from more 
criminal motives injuring alike the royal authority and the pro- 
gress of the constitutional system, by disunion among themselves, 
notwithstanding the immense, the incalculable sums expended by 
the court for its promulgation. 

One tenth of the money thus impotently lavished would have 
been more than sufficient to have secured the assistance of the 
most effective mercenary military force, which, well directed, 
would have established the national tranquillity and the constitu- 
tional monarchical authority ; but the first rational proposers of 
limited monarchy were considered so criminal in their ideas, by 
all those who have unfortunately suffered on the scaffold for their 
folly in rejecting it, tliat they were not only never listened to, but 
never forgiven ; and had a change taken place in favour of the exe- 
cutive royal authority, no measures would have been observed, 
and one and all would have been exiled from France. This I 
liave heard repeatedly asserted by the Princess Lamballe, who 
disapproved of it as a maxim, and often told the queen so j but it 



506 CHAPTER XX > 

"■•»' What!^^ exclaimed the Princess Elizabeth, "can 
that be possible, after the king has accepted the consti- 
tution ?'' 

<^"Yes," said the queen; <^' these people, my dear 
Elizabeth, wish for a constitution which sanctions the 
overthrow of him by whom it has been granted." 

^ ^^ In this," observed M. de Montmorin, " as on 
some other points, I perfectly agree with your majesty 
and the king, notwithstanding I have been opposed by 
the whole council and many other honest constituent 
members, as well as the cabinet of Vienna. And it is 
still, as it has ever been, ray firm opinion, that the king 
ought, previous to the acceptance of the constitution, to 
have been allowed, for the security of its future organi- 
zation, to have examined it maturely ; which, not having 
been the case, I foresee the dangerous situation in which 
Ms majesty stands, and I foresee, too, the non-promulga=. 
tion of this charter. Malouet, who is an honest man, is 
of my opinion. Duport, Lameth, Barnave, and even La 
Fayette are intimidated at the prevailing spirit of the 
jacobins. They were all, with the best intentions for 
your majesty^s present safety, for the acceptance in toto, 
but without reflecting on the consequences which must 
follow should the nation be deceived. But I, who am, 
and ever shall be attached to royalty, regret the step, 

was adopted by all the princes of the blood, who uniformly coun= 
selled the king to adhere rather to the jacobin party than to the 
constitutional, from an idea, that thej would be much more easily 
got rid of. 

These sentiments were never generally known. They were 
circumscribed to those immediately concerned. But if we take a 
retrospective view of the different stages and manoeuvres of the 
revolution, it will clearly appear, from the total desertion of the 
royal party, that there must have been well founded circumstances 
of premeditated vengeance, so thoroughly to have paralyzed every 
operation they attempted. 



CHAPTER XX., 307 

though I am clear in my impression as to the only course 
which ought to succeed it. The throne can now only be 
made secure by the most unequivocal frankness of pro- 
ceeding on the part of the crown. It is not enough to 
have conceded, it is necessary also to show, that the con- 
cession has some more solid origin than mere expedi- 
ency. It should be made with a good grace. Every 
motive of prudence, as well as of necessity, requires, 
that the monarch himself, and all those most interested 
for his safety, should neither in looks, manners, or con- 
versation, seem as if they felt a regret for what has been 
lost, but rather appear satisfied with what has been be- 
stowed.' ' 

^ ^' In that case,'' said the queen, ^^ we should lose all 
the support of the royalists." 

' "Every royalist, madam," replied he, "who at this 
critical crisis, does not avow the sentiments of a constitu- 
tionalist, is a nail in the king's untimely coffin." 

^ ^♦' Gracious God !" cried the queen ; ^^ that would de- 
stroy the only hope which still flatters our drooping ex- 
istence. Symptoms of moderation, or any conciliatory 
measures we might be inclined to show, of our free will^ 
to the constitutionalists, would bie immediately consider- 
ed as a desertion of our supporters, and treachery to our- 
selves, by the royalists." 

^ " It would be placed entirely out of my power, ma- 
dam," replied M. de Montmorin, " to make my attach- 
ment to the persons of your majesties available for the 
maintenance of your rights, did I permit the factious, 
overbearing party which prevails, to see into my real 
zeal for the restoration of the royal authority, so neces- 
sary for their own future honour, security, and happi- 
ness. Could they see this, I should be accused as a na- 
tional traitor, or even worse, and sent out of the world 



308 CHAPTER XX. 

by a sudden death of ignominy, merely to glut their 
hatred of monarchy ; and it is therefore I dissemble.'' 

^ '^ I perfectly agree with you," answered the queeno 
^^ That cruel moment when I witnessed the humiliating 
state to which royalty had been reduced by the constitu- 
ents, when they placed the president of their assembly 
upon a level with the king ; gave a plebeian exercising 
his functions pro tempore, prerogatives in the face of the 
nation to trample down hereditary monarchy and legisla- 
tive authority — that cruel moment discovered the fatal 
truth. In the anguish of my heart, I told his majesty? 
that he had outlived his kingly authority.'' Here she 
burst into tears, hiding her face in her handkerchief. 

^ With the mildness of a saint, the angelic Princess 
Elizabeth exclaimed, turning to the king, " Say some- 
thing to the queen, to calm her anguish !" 

^ ^' It will be of no avail," said the king ; " her grief 
adds to my affliction. I have been the innocent cause of 
her participating in this total ruin, and as it is only her 
fortitude, which has hitherto supported me, with the 
same philosophical and religious resignation, we must 
await what fate destines!" 

^ ^^ Yes," observed M, de Montmorin ; "^^ but Provi" 
dence has also given us the rational faculty of opposing 
imminent danger, and by activity and exertion obviating 
its consequences." 

» " In what manner, sir?" cried the queen ; ^'^ tell me 
how this is to be effected, and, with the king's sanction 1 
am ready to do any thing to avert the storm, which so 
loudly threatens the august head of the French nation." 
- " Vienna, madam," replied he ; " Vienna ! Your 
majesty's presence at Vienna would do more for the 
king's safety and the nation's future tranquillity, than tli€ 
tnost powerful army," 



CHAPTER XX. 30^ 

^ " We have long since suggested," said the Princess 
Elizabeth, ^^ that her majesty should fly from France and 
take refuge"— 

» ^^ Pardon me, princess," interrupted M. de Mont- 
morin, " it is not for refuge solely I would have her ma- 
jesty go thither. It is to give efficacy to the love she 
bears the king and his family, in being there the power- 
ful advocate to check the fallacious march of a foreign 
army to invade us for the subjection of the French na- 
tion. All these external attempts will prove abortive, 
and only tend to exasperate the French to crime and 
madness. Here, I coincide with my co-adjutors Bar- 
nave, Duport, Lameth, &c. The principle on which 
the re-establishment of the order and tranquillity of 
France depends, can only be effected by the non-inter- 
ference of foreign powers. Let them leave the rational 
resources of 'our own internal force to re-establish our 
real interests, which every honest Frenchman will strive 
to secure, if not thwarted by the threats and menaces off 
those who have no right to interfere. Besides, madam, 
they are too far from us to afford immediate relief from 
the present dangers, internally surrounding us. These 
are the points of fearful import. It is not the threats 
and menaces of a foreign army which can subdue a na- 
tion's internal factions. These only rouse them to pro- 
long disorders. National commotions can only be quelled 
by national spirit, whose fury, once exhausted on those 
who have aroused it, leave it free to look within, and 
work a reform upon itself." 

^ M. de Montmorin, after many other prudent exhor- 
tations and remarks, and some advice with regard to the 
king and queen's household, took his leave. He was no 
sooner gone than it was decided by the king, that Maria 
Antoinette, accompanied by myself and some other h- 



310 CHAPTER XX. 

dies, and the gentlemen of the bedchamber^ couriers, 
&c. should set out forthwith for Vienna.* 

^ To say why this purpose was abandoned is unneces- 
sary. The same fatality, which renders every project 
unattainable, threw insuperable impediments in the way 
of this. 

* The Princess Lamballe sent me directions that very eveningy 
some time after midnight, to be at our place of rendezvous early 
in the morning. I was overjoyed at the style of the note. It 
was the least mysterious I had ever received from her highness. 
I inferred that some fortunate event had occurred, with which, 
knowing how deeply I was interested in the fate of her on whom 
my own so much depended, she was eager to make me acquainted. 
But what was my surprise, on entering the church fixed on for 
the meeting, to see the queen's unknown confessor beckoning me 
to come to him. I approached. He bade me wait till after mass, 
when he had something to communicate from the princess. 

This confessor officiated in the place of the one whom Mirabeau 
had seduced to take the constitutional oath. The queen and prin- 
cess confessed to him in the private apartment of her highness ou 
the ground floor ; though it was never known where, or to whom 
they confessed, after the treachery of the royal confessor. This 
faithful and worthy successor was only known as " the unknown.'"^ 
I never heard who he was, or what was his name. 

The mass being over, I followed him into the sacristy. He told 
me, that the princess, by her majesty's command, wished me to 
set off immediately for Strasburg, and there await the arrival of 
her highness, to be in readiness to follow her and her majesty for 
the copying of the cipher, as they were going to Vienna. 

When every thing, however, had been settled for their departure, 
which it was agreed was to take place from the house of Count de 
Fersan, the resolution was suddenly changed ', but I was desired 
to hold myself in readiness for another journey. 



( 311 ) 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Journal continued. — Effect on the queen of the death of her bro 
thers, the Emperors Joseph and Leopold. — Change in thc' 
queen's household during the absence of the princess. Causes 
and consequences. — Course pursued by the princess. — Commu- 
nication from M. Laporte, head of the king's police, of a plot 
to poison the queen and royal family. — Plans to prevent its ac- 
complishment. Conversations between the queen and the 

princess, and between the king and the queen, upon the 
subject. 

^ The news of the death of the Emperor Leopold, in 
the midst of the other distresses of her majesty, afflicted 
her very deeply ; the more so, because she had every 
reason to think he fell a victim to the active part he 
took in her favour. Externally, this monarch certainly 
demonstrated no very great inclination to become a mem- 
ber of the coalition of Pilnitz. He judged, very justly, 
that his brother Joseph had not only defeated his own 
purposes by too openly and violently asserting the cause 
of their unfortunate sister, but had destroyed himself 
and therefore, selected what he deemed the safer and 
surer course of secret support. But all his caution 
proved abortive. The assembly knew his manoeuvres as 
well as he himself did. He died an untimely death ; 
and the queen was assured, from undoubted authority, 
that both Joseph and Leopold were poisoned in their 
medicines. 

' During my short absence in England, the king's 
household had undergone a complete change. When 
the emigration first commenced, a revolution in the oflSi- 
cers of the court took place^ but it was of a nature dif= 



312 CHAPTER XXI, 

ferent from this last ; and, by destroying itself, left the 
field open to those who now made the palace so intolera- 
ble. The first change to which I refer arose as follows., 
^ The greater part of the high offices being vacated by 
the succession of the most distinguished nobility, many 
places fell to persons who had all their lives occupied 
very subordinate situations. These, to retain their offi- 
ces, were indiscreet enough publicly to declare their dis- 
sent from all the measures of the assembly ; an absurdi- 
ty, which, at the commencement, was encouraged by the 
court, till the extreme danger of encouraging it was dis- 
covered too late ; and when once the error had been 
tolerated, and rewarded, it was found impossible to check 
it, and stop these fatal tongues. The queen, who dis- 
liked the character of capriciousness, for a long time al- 
lowed the injury to go on, by continuing about her those 
who inflicted it. The error, which arose from delicacy, 
was imputed to a very different and less honourable feel- 
ing, till the clamour became so great, that she was obli- 
ged to yield to it, and dismiss those who had acted with 
so much indiscretion. 

' The king and queen did not dare now to express 
themselves on the subject of the substitutes who were to 
succeed. Consequently, they became surrounded by peiv. 
sons placed by the assembly as spies. The most conspic-^ 
uous situations were filled by the meanest persons, — not, 
as in the former case, by such as had risen, though by 
accident, still regularly to their places, — but by myrmi- 
dons, of the prevailing power, to whom their majesties 
were compelled to submit, because their rulers willed it 
All orders of nobility were abolished. All the court la- 
dies, not attached to the king and queen personally, aban- 
doned the court. No one would be seen at the queen's 
card parties, once so crowded, and so much sought after. 
We were entirely reduced to the family circle. The 



CHAPTER XXI. 313 

king, when weary of playing with the Princess Elizabetli 
and the queen, would retire to his apartments without 
uttering a word, not from sullenness, but overcome by 
silent grief. 

^ The queen was occupied continually by the extensive 
correspondence she had to carry on with the foreign 
sovereigns, the princes, and the diiFerent parties. Her 
majesty once gave me nearly thirty letters she had writ- 
ten in the course of two days, which were forwarded by 
ray cava Inglesina — cara indeed ! for she was of the 
greatest service.* 

* Her majesty slept very little. But her courage never 
slackened ; and neither her health, nor her general amia- 
bleness, was in the least affected. Though few females 
could be more sensible than herself to poignant mortificsi- 
tion at seeing her former splendour hourly decrease, yet 
she never once complained. She was in this respect, a 
real stoic. 

* The palace was now become, what it still remains, 
like a police office. It was filled with spies and runners. 
Every member of the assembly, by some means or other, 
had his respective emissary. All the ante-chambers 
were peopled by inveterate jacobins, by those whose 
greatest pleasure was to insult the ears and minds of all 
whom they considered above themselves in birth, or rank, 
or virtue. So completely were the decencies of life abol- 
ished, that common respect was withheld even from the 
royal family. 

« I was determined to persevere ia my usual line of 

* I here copy the very words of that angelic victim, not from 
vanity to myself, but merely to do justice to the gooduess of her 
heart, which, at the moment she was so deeply engrossed in mat- 
ters of such importance, could divert her attention to the remem- 
brance of the little services it was my duty and my good fortune 
to perform. 



314 CHAPTER XXI. 

conduct, of which the king and queen very much ap- 
proved. Without setting up for a person of importance, 
I saw all who wished for public or private audiences of 
their majesties. I carried on no intrigues ; and only 
discharged the humble duties of my situation to the 
best of my ability, for the general good ; and to secure, 
as far as possible, the comfort of their majesties, who 
really were to be pitied, utterly friendless and forsaken 
as they were. 

*M. Laporte, the head of the king's private police^ 
came to me one day in great consternation. He had dis= 
covered, that schemes were on foot to poison all the royal 
family | and that in a private committee of the assembly 
considerable pensions had been offered for the perpetra- 
tion of the crime^ Its facility was increased, as far as 
regarded the queen, by the habit to which her majesty 
had accustomed herself, of alw^ays keeping powdered 
sugar at hand, which, without referring to her attend" 
ants, she would herself mix with water, and drink as a 
beverage, whenever she was thirsty^ 

^I entreated M. Laporte not to disclose the conspiracy 
to the queen till I had myself had an opportunity of ap- 
prizing her of his praiseworthy zeal. He agreed, on 
condition, that precautions should be immediately adopted 
with respect to the persons who attended the kitchen^ 
This, I assured him, should be done on the instants 

^ At the period I mention, all sorts of etiquette had 
been abolished. The custom, which prevented my ap= 
pearing before the queen except at stated hours, had 
long since been discontinued ; and as all the other Individ^ 
uals who came before or after the hours of service were 
eyed with distrust, and I remained the only one whose 
access to their majesties was free and unsuspected, though 
it was very early when M. Laporte called, I thought i£ 
my duty to hasten immediately to my royal mistress^ 



QHAPTER XXI. 315 

^ I found her in bed. ^' Has your majesty breakfast- 
ed?" said I. 

^ ^^No," replied she; " will you breakfast with me?" 

' ^'Most certainly," said I, '^ if your majesty will en- 
sure me against being poisoned." 

<At the word poison, her majesty started up, and 
looked at me very earnestly, and with a considerable de- 
gree of alarm. 

^ " I am only joking," continued I ; ^^ I will break- 
fast with your majesty, if you will give me tea." 

^ Tea was presently brought. '^ In this," said I, 
^' there is no danger." 

^ '* What do you mean?" asked her majesty. 

* ** I am ordered," replied I, taking up a lump of sugar, 
'^^ not to drink chocolate, or coffee, or any thing with 
powdered sugar. These are times when caution alone 
can prevent our being sent out of the world with all our 
sins upon our heads." 

^ ^* I am very glad to hear you say so ; for you have 
reason to be particular, after what you once so cruelly 
suffered from poison. But what has brought that again 
into your mind just now?" 

<^ " Well then^ since your majesty approves of my cir- 
cumspection, allow me to say, I think it adviseable that 
we should, at a moment like this especially, abstain from 
all sorts of food by which our existence may be endan- 
gered. For my own part, I mean to give up all made 
dishes, and confine myself to the simplest diet." 

<" Come, come, princess/' interrupted her majesty; 
^' there is more in this than you wish me to understand. 
Fear not. I am prepared for any thing that may be per- 
petrated against my own life, but let me preserve from 
peril my king, my husband, and my children!" 

* My feelings prevented me from continuing to dissem- 



316 CHAPTER XXI. 

ble. I candidly repeated all I had heard from M. La- 
porte. 

' Her majesty instantly rang for one of her coniiden- 
tial women. "Go to the king," said her majesty to 
the attendant, *^and if you find him alone, beg him to 
come to me at once ; but if there are any of the guards^ 
or other persons, within hearing, merely say that the 
Princess Lamballe is with me, and is desirous of the loan 
of a newspaper." 

^ The king's guard, and indeed most of those about 
him, were no better than spies, and this caution in the 
queen was necessary to prevent any jealousy from being 
excited by the sudden message. 

^ When the messenger left us by ourselves, I observed 
to her majesty^ that it would be imprudent to give the 
least publicity to the circumstance, for were it really 
mere suspicion in the head of the police, its disclosure 
mighl only put this scheme into some miscreant's head.* 
and tempt him to realize it. The queen said I was per- 
fectly right, and it should be kept secret, 

^ Our ambassadress was fortunate enough to reach the 
king's apartment unobserved, and to find him unattend- 
ed, so he received the message forthwith. On leaving 
the apartment, however, she was noticed and watched. 
She immediately went out of the Thuilleries as if sent 
to make purchases, and some time afterwards returned 
with some trifling articles in her hand,* 

* This incident will give the reader an idea of the cruel situa- 
tion in which the first sovereigns of Europe then stood | and how 
much they appreciated the few subjects who devoted themselves 
to thwart and mitigate the tyranny practised by the assembly over 
these illustrious victims. I can speak from my own experience 
on these matters. From the time I last accompanied the Prin= 
cess Lamballe to Paris, till I left it in 1792, what Ijetween milU= 



CHAPrER XXI, 317 

^The moment the king appeared^ " Sire," exclaimed 
her majesty? " the assembly, tired of endeavouring to 
wear us to death by slow torment, have devised an expe- 
dient to relieve their own anxiety, and prevent us from 
putting them to further inconvenience." 

^^^ What do you mean?" said the king. I repeated 
my conversation with M. Laporte. "Bah! bah!" re- 
sumed his majesty. " They never will attempt it. They 
have fixed on other methods of getting rid of us. They 
have not policy enough to allow our deaths to be ascribed 
to accident. They are too much initiated in great crimes, 
already." 

"But," asked the queen, " do you not think it highly 
necessary to make use of every precaution, when we are 
morally sure of the probability of such a plot?" 

*"Most certainly! otherwise we should be, in the 
eyes of God, almost guilty of suicide. But how pre- 
vent it? surrounded as we are by persons, who being se- 
duced to believe that we are plotting against them, feel 
justified in the commission of any crime under the false 
idea of self-defence!" 

' '^ We may prevent it," replied her majesty, " by 
abstaining from every thing in our diet wherein poison 
can be introduced ; and that we can manage^ without ma- 



nerSj dress makers, flower girls, fancy toy sellers, perfumers, 
hawkers of jewellery, purse and gaiter makers, &c., I had myself 
assumed twenty different characters, besides that of a drummer 
faoy, sometimes blackening my face to enter the palace Qnnoticed, 
and often holding conversations analogous to the sentiments of 
the wretches, who were piercing my heart with the remarks cir- 
cumstances compelled me to encourage. Indeed, I can safely 
say, I was known, in some shape or other, to almost every body, 
but to no one, in my real character, except the princess by whom I 
was so graciously employed. 



318 CHAPTER XXL 

king any stir by the least change either in the kitchen 
arrangements or in our own, except, indeed, this one. 
Luckily, as we are restricted in our attendants, we have a 
fair excuse for dumb waiters, whereby it will be per- 
fectly easy to choose or discard without exciting suspi- 
cion.' ' 

< This, consequently, was the course agreed upon ; and 
every possible means, direct and indirect, was put into 
action, to secure the future safety of the royal family, 
and prevent the accomplishment of the threat of poi- 
son.''^ 

* On mj seeing the princess next morning, her highness conde= 
scended to inform me of the danger to which herself and the roy- 
al family were exposed. She requested I would send my man 
servant to the persons who served me, to fill a moderate sized 
hamper with wine, salt, chocolate, biscuits, and liquors, and take 
it to her apartment, at the Pavilion of Flora, to be used as occa- 
sion required. All the fresh bread and butter which was necessa- 
ry, I get made, for nearly a fortnight, by persons whom I kneWj 
at a distance from the palace, %vhither I always conveyed it ray- 
self. 

Much greater precautions were adopted by the queen's confi- 
dential woman, Madame Campan, whOj in her work, speaks more 
at large upon the subject. 

When the princess apprized me of the plot j " We have es- 
caped, however," she observed, " the horrid plots of the 20th of 
June, and of the 14th of July. If they do not attempt another 
attack on the Thuilleries, we may possibly still escape assassina- 
tion— &t^i this I much douht.'^ 

I was greatly aftected at hearing this observation from her high- 
ness ; and especially at the cool and resigned manner in which it 
was made, as if she considered it a matter of course. I took the 
liberty of saying in answer, that whatever might have been the 
effect of past calamities, I hoped she had no reason for her melan- 
choly apprehensions of the future. 

"' Sia quel ch' Iddio voglial Let the will of God be done,'' 
cried she. " My religion has hitherto strengthened me ; but I 



CHAPTER XXI. 319 

have still the most cruel forebodings for the fate of the king, the 
queen, and their innocent offspring. May God continue to pro- 
tect them, as he has hitherto done, against their unnatural ene- 
mies ! As for myself, I am a foreigner ; and if ever a foreign army 
enters France, I shall be the first to be sacrificed — and I am pre- 
pared!" 

This heroic resignation resembles what Bertrand de MoUeville 
describes of the martyred Louis XVI. after his escape from the 
dangers of the 20th of June. 



320 



CHAPTER XXIL 

Editor in eon^mw«/ion.— Consequences of the emigration of the 
princes and nobility.— Princes Lamballe writes to reca! the 
Emigrants.— The royal family, and the distinguished friends of 
the princess, implore her to quit France. —Her magnanimous 
reply. — Is prevailed on to go to England on a renewal of her 
mission, — Finds in England a coolness towards France.— Ir 
consequence of increasing troubles in France, returns thither. 

I AM again, for this and the following chapter, com=- 
polled to resume the pen in my own person, and quit the 
more agreeable office of a transcriber for my illustrious 
patroness. 

I have already mentioned, that the Princess Lamballe^ 
on first returning from England to France, anticipated 
great advantages from the recal of the Emigrants. The 
desertion of France by so many of the powerful could 
not but be a death-blow to the prosperity of the mo- 
narchy. There was no reason for these flights at the 
time they began. The fugitives only set fire to the four 
quarters of the globe against their country,, It was na- 
tural enough, that the servants whom they had left be- 
hind to keep their places should take advantage of their 
master's pusillanimity, and make laws to exclude those 
who had, uncalled for, resigned the sway into bolder and 
more active hands» 

I do not mean to impeach the living for the dead ; but 
when we see those bearing the lofty titles of brothers of 
kings and princesses, escaping, with their wives and fa= 
milies, from an only brother and sister, with helpless in- 
tmt children^ at the hour of danger^ we oannot help 



CHAPTER XXII, 321 

wishing for a little plebeian disinterestedness in exalftd 
minds. 

I have travelled Europe twice, and I have never seen 
any woman with that indescribable charm of person, man- 
ner, and character, which distinguished Maria Antoin- 
ette. This is in itself a distinction quite suflicient to de- 
tach friends from its possessor through envy. Besides, 
she was Queen of France ; the first female of a most ca- 
pricious, restless, and libertine nation. The two prin- 
cesses placed nearest to her, and who were the first to 
desert her, though both very much inferior in personal 
and mental qualifications, no doubt, though not directly^ 
may have entertained some anticipations of her place. 
Such feelings are not likely to decrease the distaste^ 
which results from comparisons to our own disadvantage. 
It is therefore scarcely to be wondered at, that those 
nearest to the throne should be least attached to those 
who fill it. How little do such persons think, that the 
grave they are thus insensibly digging, may prove theii? 
own ! In this ease, it only did not by a miracle. What 
the eifect of the royal brothers' and the nobility's remain- 
ing in France would have been, we can only conjecture. 
That their departure caused great and irreparable evils 
we know ; and we have good reason to think they caused 
the greatest. Those who abandon their houses on fire^ 
silently give up their claims to the devouring element. 
Thus the first emigration kindled the French flame^ 
which, though for a while it was got under by a foreign 
stream, was never completely extinguished till subdued 
by its native current. 

The unfortunate Louis XVI. and Maria Antoinette 
ceased to be sovereigns from the period they were igno- 
rainiously dragged to their jail at the Thuilleries. From 
this moment they were abandoned to the vengeance of 
miscreants, who were disgracing the nation with unpro- 

Ss 



322 CHAPTER XXII. 

vokcd and useless murders. But from this moment also 
the zeal of tlie Princesses Elizabeth.and Lamballe became 
redoubled. Out of one hundred individuals and more, 
male and female, who had been exclusively occupied 
about the person of Maria Antoinette, few, excepting 
this illustrious pair, and the inestimable Clery, remained 
devoted to the last. The saint-like virtues of these 
princesses, malice itself has not been able to tarnish. 
Their love and unalterable friendship became the shield 
of their unfortunate sovereigns, and their much injured 
relatives, till the dart struck their own faithful bosoms. 
Princes of the earth ! here is a lesson of greatness from 
the great. 

, Scarcely had the Princess Lamballe been reinstated in 
the pavilion of Flora at the Thuilleries, than, by the spe° 
cial royal command, and in her majesty's presence, she 
wrote to most of the nobility, entreating their return to 
France. She urged them, by every argument, that there 
was no other means of saving them and their country 
from the horrors impending over them and France, should 
they persevere in their pernicious absence. In some of 
these letters, which I copied, there was written on the 
margin, in the queen's hand, ^^ I am at her elbow, and 
repeat the necessity of your returning, if you love your 
king, your religion, your government, and your countryo 
Maria Antoinette. Return! Return! Return!" 

Among these letters, I remember a large envelope di- 
rected to the Dutchess de Brisac, then residing alternate- 
ly at the baths of Albano, and the mineral waters at Val- 
dagno, near Vicenza, in the Venetian states. Her grace 
was charged to deliver letters addressed to her majesty's 
royal brothers, the Count de Provence, and the Count 
D'Artois, who were then residing, I think, at Stra, on 
the Brenta, in company with Madame Polcatre, Diana 
Poligttac and others. ,;■ . 



CHAPTER XXII, 323 

A few days after, I took another envelope, addressed 
to the Count Dufour,* who was at Turin. It contained 
letters for M. and Madame de Polignac, M. and Madame 
do Gniche Graramont, the king's aunts at Rome, and the 
two princesses of Piedmont, wives of his majesty's bro- 
thers. 

If, therefore, a judgment can be formed from the im- 
pressions of the royal family, who certainly must have 
had ample information with respect to the spirit which 
predominated at Paris at that period, could the nobility 
have been prevailed on to have obeyed the mandates of 
the queen, and prayers and invocations of the princess, 
there can be no doubt, that much bloodshed would have 
been spared, and the page of history never have been 
sullied by the atrocious names, which now stand there as 
beacons of human infamy. 

* The Count Dufour is the father of the gentleman who was the 
French ambassador, at Florence, under the reign of Louis XVI. 
who afterwards married at Padova a lady of my acquaintance^ 
Miss Seymour, niece of the late Lord Cooper, and sister to Mrs. 
Bennett. During the residence of the late King Louis XVIII. at 
Verona, I was present at Venice when this gentleman had all his 
plate sent to the mint at Venice, to be melted down for the use of 
Louis. The daughters of the late ambassador of whom I speak 
are now at Paris. They also are acquaintances of mine. One of 
them married one of my oldest friends. General Bournonville, who 
was long in prison with General La Fayette and Alexander La- 
meth, so treacherously given up by Dumourier to the Austrians, 
who sent them to Olmutz, where they remained till exchanged for 
her royal highness the present dauphiness of France. 

General Bournonville I had the pleasure to see'^in the character 
of ambassador under the government of Bonaparte, at Berlin ; and 
sometime afterwards in the same capacity in Spain. He was very 
much attached to the English. He procured passports for Lord 
Holland's family and myself, to travel tlirough France, at a time 
when no English subjects were allowed to enter the French tern^ 
tories 



324 CIIAPTEB XXII. 

The storms were now so fearfully increasing, that the 
King and Queen, the Duke de Penthievre, the Count de 
Fersan, the Princess Elizabeth, the Dutchess of Orleans^ 
and all the friends of the Princess Lamballe, once more 
united in anxious wishes for her to quit France. Even 
the Pope himself endeavoured to prevail upon her high- 
ness to join the royal aunts at Rome. To all these 
applications she replied, " I have nothing to reproach 
myself with. If my inviolable duty and unalterable at- 
tachment to my sovereigns, who are my relations and 
my friends j if love for my dear father, and for my 
adopted country, are crimes, in the face of God and the 
world I confess my guilt, and shall die happy, if in such 
a cause !" 

The Duke de Penthievre, who loved her as well as his 
own child, the Dutchess of Orleans, was too good a man, 
and too conscientious a prince, not to applaud the disin- 
terested firmness of his beloved daughter-in-law ; yetj 
foreseeing and dreading the fatal consequence which 
must result from so much virtue, at a time when vice 
alone predominated, unknown to the Princes Lamballe, 
interested the court of France to write to the court of 
Sardinia, to entreat that the king, as head of her family^ 
would use his good offices in persuading the princess to 
leave the scenes of commotion, in which she was so much 
exposed, and return to her native country. The King 
of Sardinia, her family, and her particular friend the 
Princes of Piedmont, supplicated ineffectually. The 
answer of her highness to the King, at Turin, was as 
follows : — 

^' Sire, and most august Cousin, 

•^^I do not recollect that any of our illustrious 
ancestors of the house of Savoy, before or since the 
great hero Charles Emanuel, of immortal memory, ever 



CHAPTER XXII. 325 

dishonoured or tarnished their illustrious names with 
cowardice. In leaving the court of France at this awful 
crisis, I should be the first. Can your majesty pardon my 
presumption in differing from your royal counsel ? The 
king, queen, and every member of the royal family of 
France, both from the ties of blood and policy of states, 
demand our united efforts in their defence. I cannot 
swerve from my determination, of never quitting them, 
especially at a moment when they are abandoned by 
every one of their former attendants, except myself. In 
happier days your majesty may command my obedience ; 
but, in the present instance, and given up as is the court 
of France to their most atrocious persecutors, I must 
humbly insist on being guided by my own decision. 
During the most brilliant period of the reign of Maria 
Antoinette, I was distinguished by the royal favour and 
bounty. To abandon her in adversity. Sire, would stain, 
my character, and that of my illustrious family, for ages 
to come, with infamy and cowardice, much more to be 
dreaded than the most cruel death." 

Similar answers were returned to all those of her nu- 
merous friends and relatives, who were so eager to shelter 
her from the dangers threatening her highness and the 
royal family. 

Her highness v/as persuaded, however, to return once 
more to England, under the pretext of completing the 
mission she had so successfully begun; but it is very 
clear, that neither the king or queen had any serious 
idea of her succeeding, and that their only object was to 
get her away from the theatre of disaster.* Circumstan- 

* The princess set oflf froui Paris and went to England by the 
way of Calais, not as has been repeatedly supposed by the way 
of Dieppe. This may be refuted, even at this distant period, 
by the heiF of the late M, Dess'in, M. Quillac, i\w present pi-o- 



226 CHAPTER XXII, 

ces had so completely changed for the worse, that> 
though her highness was received with great kindness, 
her mission was no longer listened to. The policy of 
England shrunk from encouraging twenty thousand 
French troops to be sent in a body to the West Indies, 
and France was left to its fate. A conversation with 
Mr. Burke, in which the disinclination of England to in- 
terfere was distinctly owned, created that deep rooted 
grief and apprehension in the mind of the queen, from 
which her majesty never recovered. The Princess Lam- 
balle was the only one in her confidence. It is well 
known, that the King of England greatly respected the 
personal virtues of their French majesties; but upon the 
point of business, both king and ministers were now be- 
come ambiguous and evasive. Her highness, therefore, 
resolved to return. It had already been whispered, that 
she had left France, only to save herself, like the rest ; 
and she would no longer remain under so slanderous an 
imputation. She felt, too, the necessity of her friend- 
ship to her royal mistress. Though the Queen of Eng- 
land, by whom her highness was very much esteemed, 
and many other persons of the first consequence in the 
British nation, foreseeing the inevitable fate of the royal 
family, and of all their faithful adherents, anxiously en- 
treated her not to quit England, yet she became insensi- 
ble to every consideration as to her own situation, and 
only felt the isolated one of her august sovereign, her 
friend, and benefactress. 

prietor of the hotel at Calais, where the princess and her suit 
alighted. .' > 



( 327 ) 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

Editor in continuation.— -AtiemTpt, on the 20th of June, to set the 
apartment of the Princess Lamballe on fire. — Conversation be- 
tween the princess and the editor. — Interrupted by the rush of 
the mob into the room. — The editor is wounded and swoons.—- 
Sent the next day to Passy. — Hurried interview there with the 
princess.— Unable to suppress her curiosity, leaves Passy for 
Paris. — Singular adventure with the driver of a short stage, 
who turns out a useful friend.— Meeting on the way with mobs 
in actual battle, returns, being afraid of proceeding. — The dri- 
ver goes to Paris, and brings back the editor's man-servant. — 
His account of what had passed at Paris. — Letter of the Prin- 
cess Lamballe, detailing the affair of the 20th of June.— The 
editor recalled to Paris. 

Events seemed moulded expressly to produce the 
state of feeling which marked that disastrous day, the 
30th of June, 1792. It frequently happens that nations, 
like individuals, rush wildly upon the very dangers they 
apprehend ; and select such courses, as invite what they 
are most solicitous to avoid. So it was with every thing 
preceding this dreadful day. 

By a series of singular occurrences, I did not witness 
its horrors, though in some degree their victim. Not to 
detain my readers unnecessarily, I will proceed directly 
to the accident which withdrew me from the scene. 

The apartment of the Princess Lamballe, in the pavi- 
lion of Flora, looked from one side upon the Pont Roy- 
al. On the day of which I speak, a considerable quan- 
tity of combustibles had been thrown from the bridge 
into one of her rooms. The princess, in great alarm, 
sent instantly for me. She desired to have my English 



328 CHAPTER XXIII. 

man-servant, if he were not afraid, secreted in her rooni^, 
while she herself withdrew to another part of the pa- 
lace, till the extent of the intended mischief could be as- 
certained. I assured her highness, that I was not only 
ready to answer for my servant, but would myself re- 
main with him, as he always went armed, and I was so 
certain of his courage and fidelity, that I could not hesi- 
tate even to trust my life in his hands. 

*^ For God's sake, mira caraP exclaimed the princess^ 
" do not risk your own safety, if you have any value for 
my friendship. I desire you not to go near the pavilion 
of Flora. Your servant's going is quite sufficient. Ne- 
ver again let me hear such a proposition. What ! after 
having hitherto conducted yourself so punctually, would 
you^ by one rash act, devote yourself to ruin, and deprive 
us of your valuable services?" 

I begged her highness would pardon the ardour of the 
dutiful zeal I felt for her in the moment of danger^ 

'^ Yes, yes," continued she : ^^ that is all very well ; 
but this is not the first time I have been alarmed at your 
too great intrepidity; and if ever I hear of your again 
astempting to commit yourself so wantonly, I will have 
you sent to Turin immediately, there to remain till you 
have recovered your senses. I always thought English 
heads cool ; but I suppose your residence in France has 
changed the national character of yours. 

Once more, with tears in my eyes, I begged her for- 
giveness, and on my knees implored that she would not 
send me away in the hour of danger. After having so 
long enjoyed the honour of her confidence, I trusted she 
would overlook my fault, particularly as it was the pure 
emanation of my resentment at any conspiracy against one 
I so dearly loved ; and to whom I had been under so 
many obligations, that the very idea of my being depri- 
ved of such a benefactress drove me frantic. 



CHAPTER XXIII, 329 

Her highness burst into tears. " I know your heart/"* 
exclaimed she ; " but I also know too well our situation, 
and it is that which makes me tremble for the consequen- 
ces which must follow your overstepping the bounds, so 
necessary to be observed by all of us at this horrid pe- 
riod/^ And then she called me again her cava Inglesi- 
na, and graciously condescended to embrace me and ba- 
thed my face with her tears, in token of her forgiveness, 
and bade me sit down and compose myself, and weep no 
more. 

Scarcely was I seated, when we were both startled by 
deafening shouts for the head of Madame Vefo, the 
name they gave the poor unfortunate queen. An im- 
mense crowd of cannibals and hired ruffians were already 
in the Thuilleries, brandishing all sorts of murderous 
weapons, and howling for blood ! My recollections from 
this moment are very indistinct. I know, that in an in- 
stant the apartment was filled ; that the queen, the Prin- 
cess Elizabeth, all the attendants, even the king, I be- 
lieve, appeared there. I myself received a wound upon 
my hand in warding a blow from my face ; and in the 
turmoil of the scene, and of the blow, I fainted, and was 
conveyed by some humane person to a place of safety, in 
the upper part of the palace. 

Thus deprived of my senses for several hours, I was 
spared the agony of witnessing the scenes of horror 
which succeeded. For two or three days I remained in 
a state of so much exhaustion and alarm, that when the 
princess came to me I did not know her, nor even where 
I was. 

As soon as I was sufficiently recovered, places were ta= 
ken for me and another person in one of the common di° 
ligences, by which I was conveyed to Passy, where the 
princess came to me in the greatest confusion. My com- 
panion from the palace was the widow of one of the 

Tt 

I 

I 



330 ClIAPTEE XXIIL 

Swiss guards, who had been murdered on the 6th of 
October, in defending the queen's apartment at Ver- 
sailles. The poor woman had been herself protected by 
her majesty, and accompanied me by the express order of 
the Princess Lamballe. What the princess said to her 
on departing, I know not, for I only caught the words 
^^ general insurrection/' on hearing which the afflicted 
woman fell into a fit. To me, her highness merely ex- 
claimed, " Do not come to Paris till you hear from me j'^ 
and immediately set off to return to the Thuilleries. 

However, as usual, my courage soon got the better of 
my strength, and of every consideration of personal safe- 
ty. On the third day, I proposed to the person who 
took care of me, that we should both walk out together | 
and, if there appeared no symptoms of immediate dan- 
ger, it was agreed, that we might as well get into one of 
the common conveyances, and proceed forthwith to Pa- 
ris | for I could no longer repress my anxiety to ieam 
what was going on there, and the good creature who was 
with me was no less impatiento 

When we got into a diligence, I felt the dread of ano- 
ther severe lecture like the last, and thought it best not 
to incur fresh blame by new imprudence, I therefore 
told the driver to set us down on the high road near Pa» 
ris, leading to the Bois de Boulogne. But before we 
got so far, the woods resounded with the' howling of 
mobs, and we heard, " Vive le roi," vociferated, min- 
gled with "Down with the veto;" "Down with the 
king ;" " Down with the queen 5'' and, what was still 
more horrible, the two parties were in actual bloody 
strife, and the ground was strewed with the bodies of 
dead men, lying like slaughtered sheep. 

It was fortunate that we were the only persons in the 
vehicle. The driver, observing our extreme agitation^ 
turned rotind to us :—" Nay, nay," cried he ^ "do not 



CHAPTER XXIII., 331 

alarm yourselves. It is only the constitutionalists and 
the jacobins fighting against each other. — I wish the de- 
vil had them both." 

It was evident, however, that though the man was 
desirous of quieting our apprehensions, he was consider- 
ably disturbed by his own ; for though he acknowledged 
he had a wife and children in Paris, who he hoped were 
safe, still he dared not venture to proceed, but said, if 
we wished to be driven back, he would take us to any 
place we liked, out of Paris. 

Our anxiety to know what was going forward at the 
Thuilleries was now become intolerable ; and the more 
so, from the necessity we felt of restraining our feelings. 
At last, however, we were in some degree relieved from 
this agony of reserve. 

*' God knows," exclaimed the driver, '• what will be 
the consequence of all this blood-shed! The poor king 
and queen are greatly to be pitied 1" 

This ejaculation restored our courage, and we said 
he might drive us wherever he chose out of the sight 
of those horrors; and it was at length settled that he 
should take us to Passy. " Oh," cried he, ^^ if you 
will allow me, I will take you to my father's house 
there ; for you seem more dead than alive, both of you, 
and ought to go where you can rest in quiet and 
safety." 

My companion, who was a German, now addressed 
me in that language. 

(i German !" exclaimed the driver on hearing her. 
" German ! Why I am a German myself, and served the 
good king, who is much to be pitied, for many years ; 
and when I was wounded, the queen, God bless her ! set 
me up in the world, as I was made an invalid ; and I have 
ever since been enabled to support my family respecta= 



332 CHAPTEB XXIII. 

bly. D— — - the assembly ! I shall never be a farthing 
the better for them !" 

" ^ Oh/' replied I, " then I suppose you are not a 
jacobin?" 

The driver, with a torrent of curses, then began exe= 
crating the very name of jacobin. This emboldened me 
to ask him how long he had left Paris. He replied, 
^^ Only this very morning ;'' and added, that the assem- 
bly had shut the gates of the Thuilleries, under the pre- 
tence of preventing the king and queen from being as- 
sassinated. ^^ But that is all a confounded lie," continued 
he, "invented to keep out the friends of the royal fa- 
mily» But, God knows, they are now so fallen, they 
have few such left to be turned away!" 

^^ I am more enraged," pursued he, "at the ingrati- 
tude of the nobility, than I am at these hordes of blood- 
thirsty plunderers : for we all know that the nobility 
owe every thing to the king. Why do they not rise en 
masse to shield the royal family from these blood-hounds? 
Can they imagine they will be spared, if the king should 
be murdered? I have no patience v^^ith them!" 

I then asked him our fare, " Two livres is the fare^ 
but you shall not pay any thing. I see plainly, ladies^ 
that you are not what you assume to be." 

^^ My good man," replied I, " we are not ; and 
therefore pray take this louis d'or for your trouble." 

He caught ray hand, and pressed it to his lips, ex- 
claiming, " I never in my life knew a man who was faith- 
ful to his king, that God did not provide for. 

He then took us to Passy, but advised us not to re-" 
main at the place where we had been staying ; and for- 
tunate enough it was for us that we did not, for the 
house was set on fire^ and plundered by a rebel mob very 
soon after. 



CHAPTER XXIII, 333 

I told the driver how much I was obliged to hitn for 
his services, and he seemed delighted when I promised 
to give him proofs of my confidence in his fidelity. 

'^ If," said I, ^^ you can find out my servant, whom I 
left in Paris, I will give you another louis d'or.'' I was 
afraid, at first, to mention where he was to look for him. 

^^ If he be not dead/' replied the driver, " I will 
find him out." 

" What I" cried I, " even though he should be at the 
Thuilleries." 

<t Why, madam, I am one of the national guard. I 
have only to put on my uniform, to be enabled to go to 
any part of the palace I please. Tell me his name, and 
where you think it likely he may be found, and depend 
upon it I will bring .him to you." 

" Perhaps," continued he, ^^ it is your husband, dis- 
guised as a servant ; but no matter. Give me a clue, 
and I'll warrant you he shall tell you the rest himself, by 
this time to-morrow." 

" Well, then," replied I, " he is in the pavilion of 
Flora." 

(i What, with the princess Lamballe ? Oh, I would go 
through fire and water for that good princess ! She has 
done me the honour to stand godmother to one of ray 
children, and allows her a pension." 

I took him at his word. We changed our quarters to 
his father's house, a very neat little cottage, about a quar- 
ter of a mile from the town. He afterwards rendered 
me many services, in going to and fro from Passy to Pa- 
ris ; and, as he promised, brought me my servant. 

When the poor fellow arrived, his arm was in a sling. 
He had been wounded by a musket shot, received in de- 
fence of the princess. The history of his disaster was 
this. 

On the night of the riot, as he NVtis going from the 



334 CHAPTER XXIII, 

Pont Royal to the apartment of her highness, he detect- 
ed a group of villains under her windows. Six of them 
were attempting to enter by a ladder. He fired, and 
two fell. While he was reloading, the others shot at 
him. Had he not, in the flurry of the moment, fire'd 
both his pistols at the same time, he thinks he should not 
have been wounded, but might have punished the assail- 
ant. One of the men, he said, could have been easily 
taken by the national guard, who so glaringly encouraged 
the escape, that he could almost swear the guard was a 
party concerned. The loss of blood had so exhausted 
him, that he could not pursue the offender himself, 
whom otherwise he could have taken without any diffi- 
culty. 

As the employing of my servant had only been propo° 
sed, and the sudden interruption of my conversation with 
her highness by the riot had prevented my ever commu« 
nicating the project to him, I wondered how he got into 
the business, or ascertained so soon that the apartment of 
the princess was in danger. He explained, that he never 
had heard of its being so ; but my own coachman having 
left me at the palace that day, and not hearing of me for 
some time, had driven home, and, fearing that my not 
returning arose from something which had happened^ 
advised him to go to the Pont Royal, and hear what he 
could learn, as there was a report of many persons hav- 
ing been murdered and thrown over the bridge. 

My man took the advice, and armed himself to be 
ready in case of attack. It was between one and two 
o'clock after midnight, when he went. The first objects 
he perceived were these miscreants attempting to scale 
the palace. 

He told me, that the queen had been most grossly 
insulted ; that the gates of the Thuilleries had been shut 
in consequence ; that a small part alone remained open 



CHAPTER xxiii. 335 

to the public, who were kept at their distance by a na- 
tional ribbon, which none could pass without being in- 
stantly arrested. This had prevented his apprizing the 
princess of the attempt, . which he had accidentally de- 
feated, and which he wished me to communicate to her 
immediately. I did so by a letter, which my good driver 
carried to Paris, and delivered safe into the hands of our 
benefactress. 

The surprise of the princess on hearing from me, and 
her pleasure at my good fortune, in finding by accident 
such means, baffles all description. Though she was at 
the time overwhelmed with the imminent dangers which 
threatened her, yet she still found leisure to show her 
kindness to those who were doing their best, though in 
vain, to serve her. The following letter, which she sent 
me in reply, written amidst all the uneasiness it des-* 
cribes, will speak for her more eloquently than my 
praises. 

(.fe< I can understand your anxiety. It was well for you, 
that you were unconscious of the dreadful scenes which 
were passing around you on that horrid day. The 
Princess de Tarente, Madame de Tourzel, Madame de 
Mockau, and all the other ladies of the household, owed 
the fafety of their lives to one of the national guards* 
having given his national cockade to the queen. Her 
majesty placed it on her head, unperceived by the mob. 
One of the gentlemen of tlie king's wardrobe provided 
the King and the Princess Elizabeth with the same im- 
penetrable shield. Though the cannibals came for mur- 
der, I could not but admire the enthusiastic deference 
that was shown to this symbol of authority, which in- 
stantly paralized the daggers uplifted for our extermina- 
tion. 

^ Merlin de Thionville, was the stoic head of this 
party. The Princess Elizabeth having pointed him out 



336 CHAPTER XXIII. 

to me, I ventui^d to address him respecting the danger^" 
ous situation to which the royal family were daily ex- 
posed. I flattered him upon his influence over the 
majority of the fauxbourgs, to which only we could look 
for the extinction of these disorders. He replied, that 
the despotism of the court had set a bad example to the 
people; that he felt for the situation of the royal party 
as individuals, but he felt much more for the safety of 
the French nation, who were in still greater danger than 
their majesties had to dread, from the Austrian faction^ 
by which a foreign army had been encouraged to in- 
vade the territory of France, where they were now 
waiting the opportunity of annihilating French liberty for 
ever ! 

*To this her majesty replied, ^^When the deputies 
of the assembly have permitted, nay, I may say encou- 
raged this open violation of the king's asylum, and, by 
their indiiference to the safety of all those who surround 
us, have sanctioned the daily insults to which we have 
been, and still are, exposed, it is not to be wondered at 
that all sovereigns should consider it their interest to 
make common cause with us, to crush internal commo- 
tions, levelled, not only against the throne, axid the per- 
,sons of the sovereign and his family, but against the very 
principle of monarchy itself.^' 

< Here the king, though much intimidated for the sit- 
uation of the queen and his family, for whose heads the 
wretches were at that very moment howling in their 
ears, took up the conversation, 

* " These cruel facts," said he, ^^ and the menacing 
situation you even now witness, fully justify our not 
rejecting foreign aid, though, God knows, how deeply I 
deplore the necessity of such a cruel resource ! But 
when all internal measures of conciliation have been trod- 
den under footj and the authorities^ who ought to check 



CHAPTER XXIII. 337 

h and protect us from these cruel outrages, are only oc- 
cupied in daily fomenting the discord between us and 
our subjects ; though a forlorn hope, what other hope is 
there of safety? I foresee the drift of all these commo- 
tions, and am resigned ; but what will become of this 
misguided nation, when the head of it shall be de- 
stroyed ?'' 

^ Here the king, nearly choked by his feelings, was 
compelled to pause for a moment, and he then proceeded. 

^ " I should not feel it any sacrifice, to give up the 
guardianship of the nation, could I, in so doing, ensure 
its future tranquillity: but I foresee, that my blood, like 
that of one of my unhappy brother sovereigns,^ will only 
open the floodgates of human misery, the torrent of 
which, swelled with the best blood of France, will deluge 
this once peaceful realm." 

* This, as well as I can recollect, is the substance of 
what passed at the castle on this momentous day. Our 
situation was extremely doubtful, and the noise and hor- 
rid riots were at times so boisterous, that frequently we 
could not, though so near them, distinguish a word the 
king and queen said ; and yet, whenever the leaders of 
these organized ruffians spoke or threatened, the most re- 
spectful stillness instantly prevailed. 

* I weep in silence for misfortunes, which I fear are 
inevitable ! The king, the queen, the Princess Elizabeth 
and myself, with many others under this unhappy roof, 
have never ventured to undress or sleep in bed, till last 
night. None of us any longer reside on the ground 
floor. 

* By the very manly exertions of some of the old offi- 
cers incorporated in the national array, the awful riot I 
have described was overpowered, and the mob, with dif- 

\ 

\ * Charles the First, of England, 

TJu 



338 CHAPTER XXIII. 

liculty, dispersed. Among these, I should particularize 
Generals Vomenil,* Mandate, and Roederer. Principal- 
ly by their means the interior of the Thuilleries was at 
last cleared, though partial mobs, such as you have often 
witnessed, still subsist, 

•^ I am thus particular in giving you a full account of 
this last revolutionary commotion, that your prudence 
may still keep you at a distance from the vortex. Con- 
tinue where you are, and tell your man servant how 
much I am obliged to him, and, at the same time, hovy 
much I am grieved at his being wounded ! I knew no- 

* This general, the last time I came from Italy to England, on 
my way through Vienna, I had the pleasure ef seeing at the house 
of a particular friend of mine, Madame Peschie, the wife of a 
banker of that name. I think, also, I saw him once afterwards in 
company, at the house of the Count de Fries, from whom I re- 
ceived the most marked and cordial attention during my different 
visits to that truly hospitable city. 

While I am upon the subject of the hospitalities of this city I 
must not omit to mention some families in particular, such as the 
Prince Odescalchi, the family of Baron Arentium, EskelesSj 
Pierera, and Hanenstein ', Gondart, Curzbeck, the famous Haydn, 
Baron Brown, the late Prince Lobkowitz, Count de Sauron^ 
Prince Throumansdorf, the Prince and Princess Colalto StatioHj 
and others, too numerous to be particularized here, for whose 
kindness though not mentioned 5 I shall ever retain the most lively 
gratitude. 

General de Vomenii was private secretary of the late Queen of 
Naples, who was the sister of Napoleon, and wife of that ill-fated 
King of Naples, Murat, and who, it is said, has since become the 
wife of Marshal Macdonald, and lives retired at Hamburgh, near 
Vienna. Her brother, the late King of Westphalia, now Prince 
Rumford, lives also in retirement, at a country seat he purchased 
from tlie friend I have just mentioned. Baron Brown. Neither 
the deposed brother or sister have any but ancient nobility in 
their suite. The Countess of Athmis, sister to Mrs. Spencer 
Smith, wife of the late British ambassador at Constantinople, is 
one of the ex-queen's ladies of honour. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 339 

thing of the affair but from your letter and your faithful 
messenger. He is an old pensioner of mine, and a good 
honest fellow. You may depend on him. Serve your- 
self, through him, in communicating with me. Though 
he has had a limited education, he is not wanting in in- 
tellect. Remember, that honesty, in matters of such vi- 
tal import, is to be trusted before genius. 

* My apartment appears like a barrack, like a bear 
garden, like any thing but what it was! Numbers of 
valuable things have been destroyed, numbers carried off. 
Still, notwithstanding all the horrors of these last days, 
it delights me to be able to tell you, that no one, in the 
service of the royal family, failed in duty at this dread- 
ful crisis. I think we may firmly rely on the inviolable 
attachment of all around us. No jealousy, no conside- 
rations of etiquette, stood in the way of their exertions, 
to show themselves worthy of the situations they hold : 
The queen showed the greatest intrepidity during the 
whole of these trying scenes. 

^ At present, I can say no more. Petion, the mayor 
of Paris, has just been announced; and, I believe, he 
wishes for an audience of her majesty, though he never 
made his appearance during the whole time of the riots 
in the palace. Adieu, mia cava Ingksina/'^ 

The receipt of this letter, however it might have af- 
fected me, to hear what her highness suffered, in common 
with the rest of the unfortunute royal inmates of the 
Thuilleries, gave me extreme pleasure from the assu- 
rance it contained of the firmness of those nearest to the 
sufferers. I was also sincerely gratified in reflecting on. 
the probity and disinterested fidelity of this worthy man, 
which contrasted him, so strikingly and so advantageous- 
ly to himself, with many persons of birth and education, 
whose attachment could not stand the test of the trying 
scenes of the revolution, which made them abandon and 



340 CHAPTER XXIII. 

betray, where they had sworn an allegiance, to which 
they were doubly bound by gratitude. 

My man-servant was attended, and taken the greatest 
care of. The princess never missed a day in sending to 
inquire after his health ; and, on his recovery, the queen 
herself not only graciously condescended to see him, 
but, besides making Iiira a valuable present, said many 
flattering and obliging things of his bravery and disin- 
terestedness. 

I should scarcely have deemed these particulars, — ho- 
nourable as they are to the feelings of the illustrious per- 
sonages from whom they proceeded,- — worth mentioning 
in a work of this kind, did they not give indications of 
character rarely to be met with, (and, in their case, how 
shamefully rewarded!) from having occurred at a crisis 
when their minds were occupied in alFairs of such deep 
importance, and amidst the appalling dangers which 
hourly threatened their own existence. 

Her majesty's correspondence with foreign courts had 
been so much increased by these scenes of horror, espe- 
cially her correspondence with her relations in Italy^ 
that, ere long, I was sent for back to Paris. 

Why dost thou intrude, memory, to tear asunder 
wounds, to cause them to bleed afresh ! It is now thirty 
long years since I beheld these scenes, yet still my blood 
curdles in my veins, when I recall the heart-rending 
picture, which presented itself on my first return to the 
princess's apartment at the pavilion of Flora, from Pas- 
syl My pen cannot depict my agony. My readers 
must imagine what I felt, and they will readily pardon 
sny want of ability to describe those feelings, when I re- 
fer them to what met my view— a royal palace nearly 
razed to the ground; gutted apartments; costly furni- 
ture in fragments amidst the ruins; three of the most 
august personages in Europe standing amidst the wrecks 



CHAPTER XXIII. 341 

totally unmoved by the surrounding desolation, and sole- 
ly occupied in fervent prayers, invoking God for the 
safety of the journey of an insignificant individual like 
myself! I was thrilled with horror, with pity, with 
shame, at their suiFerings. If there be a soul within the 
human breast, no human eye could look on such a scene 
and not be moved. Fallen majesty, under any circum- 
stances, must be an object of uncommon sensation to any 
reflecting mind ; but there were distinctions in this case, 
to give it peculiar poignancy. A queen of the bright- 
est prospects, the gentlest and noblest heart, bereaved of 
her rights, and execrated by her people ; a royal virgin, 
nipped in the bloom of youth ; and an illustrious widow- 
ed princess denied kindness from those whom she had 
fostered, and now seeking relief from the humble whom 
she had succoured — what an accumulation of misfortune ! 
Human vicissitude! what a school art thou for reflec- 
tion! what a lesson to the follies of earthly grandeur! 
But we do not see it, we do not feel it, nor do we even 
believe it, till the hour of danger, when, alas ! it is too 
late; and we only awake from torpor to be convinced, 
that we are mere mortals, and may not be heedless with 
impunity. 

God forbid I should insinuate, that these saint-like, 
martyred victims, ever in the slightest degree deserved 
that ignominious, unceasing persecution, of which his- 
tory presents no parallel. But we are apt to be blind 
to circumstances, by confounding our calculations with 
our wishes ; and, though death stared them in the face, 
yet no energy was called up to resist it, till the very last 
moment, when the earthquake had shaken the edifice to 
its foundation, and no human power could prevent their 
being buried in its ruins. No resource remained. Like 
lambs, they submitted to the slaughter. The sacrifice 
was made before it was performed. ^^I know that ray 



342 CHAPTER XXIII. 

Redeemer liveth" was the only hope to which they 
clung; and they were dead to the world, long, long he- 
fore the thread of life was mercifully cut by the bloody 
hands, which had already despoiled them of all that 
made life desirable ! 




( 343 ) 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Journal of the princess resumed and concluded. — La Fayette, in 
consequence of the events of the 20th of June, leaves his army 
to remonstrate with the assembly. — ^Remarks. — The king re- 
fuses to see him. — Deputation arrives, to which he was a party, 
to urge the king and queen to consign the dauphin to the pro- 
tection of the army. — The queen's refusal. — Conversation with 
the king. — Disgust of the royal family against La Fayette. 

* The insurrection of the 20th of June, and the un- 
certain state of the safety of the royal family, menaced 
as it was by almost daily riots, induced a number of well 
disposed persons to prevail on General La Fayette to 
leave his army and come to Paris, and there personally 
remonstrate against these outrages. Had he been sin- 
cere, he would have backed the measure, by appearing 
at the head of his army, then well disposed, as Cromwell 
did, when he turned out the rogues who were seeking 
the Lord though the blood of their king, and put the 
keys in his pocket. Violent disorders require violent 
remedies. With an army and a few pieces of cannon at 
the door of the assembly, whose members were seeking 
the aid of the devil, for the acomplishment of their hor- 
rors, he might, as was done when the same scene oc- 
curred in England in 1668, by good management, have 
averted the deluge of blood. But, by appearing before 
the assembly isolated, without ^^voild mon droit,^' 
which, the king of Prussia had had engraven on his 
cannon, he lost the opinion of all parties.* 

* In this instance the general grossly committed himself, in the 
opinion of every impartial observer of his conduct. He should 



344 CHAPTER XXIVo 

<^ La Fayette came to the palace frequently, but the 
king would never see him. He was obliged to return^ 
with the additional mortification of having been deceived 
in his expected support from the national guard of Paris^ 
whose pay had been secretly trebled by the national as- 
sembly, in order to secure them to itself. His own 
safety, therefore* required that he should join the troops 
under his command. He left many persons in whom he 
thought he could confide ; among whom were some who 
came to me one day requesting I would present them to 
the queen, without loss of time, as a man condemned to 
be shot had confessed to his captain, that there was a 
plot laid to murder her majesty that very night. 

^ I hastened to the royal apartment, without mention- 
ing the motive ; but some such catastrophe was no more 
than what we incessantly expected, from the almost 
hourly changes of the national guard, for the real pur- 
pose of giving easy access to all sorts of wretches to the 
very rooms of the unfortunate queen, in order to furnish 
opportunities for committing crime with impunity. 

' After I had seen the queen, the applicants were in- 
troduced, and, in my presence, a paper was handed by 

never have shown himself in the capital, but at the head of his 
army. France, circumstanced as it was, torn by intestine com- 
motion, was only to be intimidated by the sight of a popular 
leader at the head of his forces. Usurped authority can only be 
quashed by the force of legitimate authority, La Fayette being 
the only individual in France that in reality possessed such an 
authority, not having availed himself at a crisis like the one 
in which he was called upon to act, rendered his conduct, doubt- 
ful, and all his intended operations suspicious to both parties, 
whether his feelings were really inclined to prop up the fallen 
kingly authority, or his newly acquired republican principles, 
prompted him to become the head of the democratical party, for 
no one can see into the hearts of men ; his popularity from that 
moment ceased to exist 



CHAPTER XXIV» 345 

them to her majesty. At the moment she received it^ I 
was obliged to leave her, for the purpose of watching an 
opportunity for their departure unobserved. These pre- 
cautions were necessary with regard to every person who 
came to us in the palace, otherwise the jealousy of the 
assembly and its emissaries, and the national guard of the 
interior, might have been alarmed, and we should have 
been placed under express and open surveillance. The 
confusion created by the constant change of guard; 
however, stood us in good stead in this emergency. 
Much passing and repassing took place unheeded in the 
bustle. 

^ When the visiters had departed, and her majesty at 
•one window of the palace, and I at another, had seen 
them safe over the Pont Royal, I returned to her majesty. 
She then graciously handed me the paper which they 
had presented. 

^ It contained an earnest supplication, signed by many 
thousand good citizens, that the king and queen would 
sanction the plan of sending the dauphin to the army of 
La Fayette. They pledged themselves, with the assist- 
ance of the royalists, to rescue the royal family. They 
urged, that if once the king could be persuaded to show 
himself at the head of his army, without taking any ac- 
tive part, but merely for his own fafety and that of his 
family, every thing might be accomplished with the 
greatest tranquillity. 

' The queen exclaimed, " What ! send my child ! No ! 
never while I breathe !* Yet were I an independent 

* Little did this unfortunate mother think, that they who thus 
pretended to interest themselves for this beautiful, angelic prince 
only a few months before, would, when she was in her horrid 
prison after the butchery of her husband, have required this only 
comfort to be violently torn from her maternal arras ! 

Little, indeed, did she think, when her maternal devotedness 
Xx 



34B CIIAPTE-R XXIV. 

queen, or the regent of a miilorityj I feel that I should 
be inclraed to accept the ofTerj to place myself at the 
head of the army, as my immortal mother did, who, by 
that step, transmitted the crown of our ancestors to its 
legitimate descendants. It is the monarchy itself whicli 
now requires to be asserted. Though Orleans is actively 
engaged in attempting the dethronement of his majesty^ 
I do not think the nation will submit to such a prince, or 
to any other monarchical government, if the present be 
decidedly destroyed, 

* " All these plans, my dear princess,^' continued she^ 
'^are mere castles in the air. The mischief is too deeply 
rootedo As they have already frantically declared for 
the king's abdication, any strong measure now, incompe- 
tent as we are to assure its access, would at once arm the 
advocates of republicanism to proclaim the king's de- 
thronement 

^ " The cruel observations of Petion to his majesty, on 
our ever memorable return from Verennes, have made a 
deeper impression than you are aware of. When the 
king observed to him, "What do the French nation 
want?"— "A republic," replied he. And though he 

thus repelled the very thought of his being trusted to myriads of 
sworn defenders, how soon he would be barbarously consigned by 
the infamous assembly as the foot-stool of the inhuman savage 
cobbler Simony to be the night-boy of the excrements of the vilest 
of the works of human nature! 

Is it possible, that such facts,— facts known to all the world! — . 
can be retraced with coolness or in any tone of moderation by 
one, who, like me, had the honour of knowing this most innocent 
of all victims. 

Unhappy mother I your religious resignation has made you the 
heroine of all martyrs ! My hand refuses its functions, my pen 
drops from my fingerSj, and my paper is bathed with useless tears! 
Memory rests on the wounded mind, which has never been healedj 
and which bleeds afresh at the recollection! 



CHAPTER XXIV. 347 

bas been the meaus of already costing us some thousands, 
to crush this unnatural propensity, yet I firmly believe, 
that he himself is at the head of all the civil disorders 
fomented for its attainment. I am the more confirmed in 
this opinion from a conversation I had with the good old 
man, M. de Malesherbes, who assured me the great 
sums we were lavishing on this man were thrown away, 
for he would be certain, eventually, to betray us : and 
such an inference could only have been drawn from the 
lips of the traitor himself. Petion must have given 
Malesherbes reason to believe this. I am daily more 
and more convinced it will be the case. Yet, were I to 
show the least energy or activity in support of the king's 
authority, I should be accused of undermining it. All 
France would be up in arms against the danger of female 
influence. The king would only be lessened in the ge- 
neral opinion of the nation, and the kingly authority still 
more weakened. Calm submission to his majesty is, 
therefore, the only safe course for both of us, and we 
must wait events." 

^ While her majesty was thus opening her heart to 
me, the king and Princess Elizabeth entered, to inform 
hep, that M. Laporte, the head of the private police, 
had discovered, and caused to be arrested, some of the 
wretches who had maliciously attempted to fire the pa- 
lace of the Thuilleries. 

«"Set them at liberty!*' exclaimed her majesty; 
"or, to clear themselves and their party, they will ac- 
cuse us of something worse.'" 

^ " Such too, is my opinion, sire," observed I; ^^for 
however I abhor their intentions, I have here a letter, 
from one of these miscreants, which was found among 
the combustibles. It cautions us not to inhabit the up- 
per part of the pavilion. My not having paid the atten- 
tion which was expected to the letter, has aroused the 



348 CHAPTER 3fXIV. 

malice of the writer, and caused a second attempt to be 
made from the Pont Royal, upon my own apartment; in 
preventing which, a worthy man* has been cruelly 
wounded in the arm. 

^"Merciful Heaven!" exclaimed the poor queen and 
the Princess Elizabeth, " not dangerously I hope!" f 

^ "I hope not," added I; "but the attempt, and its 
escaping unpunished, though there were guards all 
around, is a proof how perilous it will be, while we are 
so weak, to kindle their rancour by any show of impo- 
tent resentment; for I have reason to believe it was to 
that^ the want of attention to the letter of which I speak 
was imputed." :• 

The queen took this opportunity of laying before the'^ 
king the above-mentioned plan. His majesty, seeing in 
it the name of La Fayette, took up the paper, and, af- 
ter he had attentively perused it, tore it in pieces, ex- 
claiming, ^^ What! has not M. La Fayette done mischief 
enough yet, but must he even expose the names of so 
many worthy men by committing them to paper at a cri- 
tical period like this, when he is fully aware, that we are 
in immediate danger of being assailed by a banditti of 
inhuman cannibals, who would sacrifice every individual 
attached to us, if, unfortunately, such a paper should be 
found? I am determined to have nothing to do with his 
ruinous plans. Popularity and ambition made him the 
principal promoter of republicanism. Having failed of 
becoming a Washington, he is mad to become a Crom- 
well. I have no faith in these turn coat constitution- 
alists." 

^ I know that the queen lieartily concurred in this 



«* My man-servantj as elsewhere described. 
t Thus were these unfortunate princesses always more anxious 
lor the safety and welfai-e of others, than for theiy own- 



CHAPTER XXIVo 349 

sentiment concerning General La Fayette, as soon as she 
ascertained his real character, and discovered, that he 
considered nothing paramount to public notoriety. To 
this he had sacrificed the interest of his country, and 
trampled under foot the throne; but finding he could 
not succeed in forming a republican government in 
France as he had in America, he> like many others, lost 
his popularity with the demagogues, and, when too late, 
came to offer his services, through me, to the queen, to 
recruit a monarchy, which his vanity had undermined to 
gratify his chimerical ambition. Her majesty certainly 
saw him frequently; but never again would she put her- 
self in the way of being betrayed by one whom she con- 
sidered faithless to all.' * 



* Thus ended the proflfered services of General La Fayette, 
■who then took the command of the national army, served against 
that of the Prince Condd, and the princes of his native country, 
and was given up with General Bournonville, Lameth, and others, 
by General Dumourier, on the first defeat of the French, to the 
Austrians, by whom they were sent to the fortress of Olmutz in 
Hungary, where they remained till after the death of the wretch 
Robespierre, when they were exchanged for the Dutchess D'An- 
gouleme, now Dauphiness of France. 

From the retired life led by General La Fayette, on his return 
to France, there can be but little doubt, that he spent a great part 
of his time in reflecting on the fatal errors of his former conduct, 
as he did not coincide with any of the levolutionary principles 
which preceded the short lived reign of imperialism. But though 
Napoleon too well knew him to be attached from principle to re- 
publicanism, — every vestige of which he had long before destroy- 
ed, — to employ him in any military capacity, still he recalled him 
from his hiding place, in order to prevent his doing mischief, as he 
politically did every other royalist whom he could bring under the 
banners of his imperialism. 

Had Napoleon made use of his general knowledge of mankind 
in other respects, as he politically did in France over his conquer- 
ed subjects, in respecting ancient habits, and gradually we^ed 



350 QHAPTER XXIV, 

Here ends the Journal of my lamented benefactress^ 
I have continued the history to the close of her career^ 
and that of the royal family, especially as her highness 
herself acted so important a part in many of the scenes, 
which are so strongly illustrated by her conversation and 
letters. It is only necessary to add, that the papers 
which I have arranged were received from her highness 
amidst the disasters, which were now thickening around 
her and her royal friends. 

them from their natural prejudices, instead of violently forcing all 
men to become Frenchmen, all men would have fought for himj 
and not against him. These were the weapons by which his pow- 
er became annihilated, and which, in the end, will be the destruc- 
tion of all potentates, who presume to follow his fallacious plan of 
forming individuals to a system, instead of accommodating sys- 
tems to individuals. The fruits from southern climes have been 
reared in the north, but without their native virtue or vigour. It 
is more dangerous to attack the habits of men than their religion. 
The British constitution, though a blessing to Englishmen, is 
very ill suited to nations not accustomed to the climate and its 
variations. Every country has peculiarities of thought and man= 
ners resulting from the physical influence of its sky and soiL 
Whenever we lose sight of this truth, we naturally lose the affec- 
tions of those whose habits we counteracts 



( 351 ) 



CHAPTER XXV. 

The editor attends debates, and executes confidential employ- 
ments, in various disguises.— Becomes intimate with a reporter. 
°— Adventure with Danton in the Thuilleries, disguised as a 
milliner's apprentice.— Horrid scene in the gardens. — Conster- 
nation of the royal party, on seeing her with Danton.— She 
contrives to be taken by him to the palace. — Delight of the 
Princess Lamballe at her return. — Conversation with the prin- 
cess upon the state of public aftairs, and hopelessness of the 
royal cause. 

From the time I left Passy, till my final departure 
from Paris for Italy, which took place oa the 2d of Au- 
gust, 1792, my residence was almost exclusively at the 
capital. The faithful driver, who had given such proofs 
of probity, continued to be of great service, and was put 
in perpetual requisition. I was daily about on the busi- 
ness of the queen and the princess, always disguised, and 
mx)st frequently as a drummer boy ; on which occasions 
the driver and my man servant were my companions. 
My principal occupation was to hear and take down the 
debates of the assembly,* and to convey and receive let- 

* I was by no means a novice in this species of masquerading, 
as, I believe, I have mentioned before. 

I remember one day, long previous to the time I now allude to, 
the Princess Lamballe told me the queen had been informed by 
Mirabeau, that the Abbe Maury was to make a motion in the as- 
sembly, which, by a private understanding between the two, Mira- 
beau was to oppose, for the purpose of the better carrying on the 
deception of their plans, and thereby ascertaining " how the land 
lay'^ with respect to some of the deputies, wliom Mirabeau had 
not yet been able to secure to the interest of the monarchy. " I 



353 CHAPTER XXV, 

lei's from the queen to the Princess Lamballe, to and 
from Barnave, Bertrand de Moleville, Alexandre de La^- 



wish," said the princess, " you would go in boy's clothes with 
your servant, in the gallery to Hear the discussions. '' I said I 
would most willingly, as I was desirous of seeing Mirabeau's im- 
petuosity contrasted with the phlegmatic propositions of the Abbe 
Maury. It was on that very day, and in consequence of that very 
argument, that when the abbe came from the assembly, the mob 
cried out, "a/c lanterne, M. VMbe! The abbe, turning round, 
replied, with the greatest sang froid, " Will your hanging me t© 
the lamp post make you see the clearer ?'' 

A similar story is related of Mr. Pitt. He was once coming 
across the park from the king's levee, followed by an immense 
mob, who were pelting his carriage and abusing him most oat- 
rageously, till he reached his house, which was in one of the 
streets leading out of the park. There, seeing them settling in 
battle array, he turned round in the politest manner, took off his 
hat, and made them a low bow. This turned the tide. They in- 
stantly became as vehement in their applause, as they had been 
brutally violent in their abuse. 

Oh, what a many -headed monster is a plebeian mob! During 
the French revolution, how often have I seen this change achieved 
on most serious occasions, whenever the objects of their malice 
had courage enough to face their brutal assailants. 

A similar circumstance happened to me at my country house 
near Treviso. I was translating the works of Lady Mary Wort- 
ley Montague into Italian. A fellow, after I had accommodated 
him and, his staff with many beds, demanded of me to give up my 
own bed room. " Where then," asked I, " are my husband, mj 
family, and myself, to sleep ?"■ — " In the stables," replied he. 
We had nearly five hundred soldiers on our grounds, all their 
luggage, and many field pieces, or I would have stabled him out of 
the room. I dared not call my husband, as he would have stabled 
him out of the windows in double quick time, as he had done be- 
fore in a case of similar violence. However, I told him my mind 
in language which caused the coward to draw his sword against 
me. When I saw this, I rose from my seat, advanced towards 
him, and said, " Give me that weapon, coward, and I will not 
threaten you, but use it as your unjustifiable insolence deserves I" t 



CHAPTER XXV. 353 

aieth, Duport de Fertrc, Duportail, Montmoriu, Turbe^ 
Mandate, the Duke de Brissac, &c,, with whom my illus- 
trious patronesses kept up a continued correspondence, 
to which I believe all of them fell a sacrifice ; for, owing 
to the imprudence of the king in not removing their 
communications when he removed the rest of his papers 
from the Thuilleries, the exposure of their connexion 
with the court was necessarily consequent upon the plun- 
der of the palace on the 10th of August^ 1792. 

In my masquerade visits to the assembly, I got ac- 
quainted with an editor of one of the papers ; I think he 
told me his name Wcis Duplessie. Being pleased with the 
liveliness of my remarks on some of the organized disor-^ 
ders, as I termed them, and with some comments I made 
upon the meanness of certain disgusting speeches on the 
patriotic gifts, my new acquaintance suffered me to take 
copies of his own short hand remarks and reports. By 
this means, the queen and the princess had them before 
they appeared in print. M. Duplessie was, on other oc- 
casions, of great service to me, especially as a protector 
in the mobs ; for my man servant and the honest driver*' 
were so much occupied in watching the movements of the 
various fauxbourg factions, that I was often left entirely 
unattended. 

The horrors of the Thailleries, both by night and day^ 
were now grown appalling beyond description. Almost 

cannot say what my countenance betrayed at the moment, but his 
became like that of a corpse, and he set off in the night, probably 
from the fear lest I should put my threat in execution, which, I 
verily believe, I should have done at the moment, had I been mis- 
tress of the weapon. 

* These were two, amongst the persons in the confidence of the 
princess, whose fidelity and attention Madame Campan mentioned 
to her august mistress, and to which she bears public testimony in 
her late woi'k. 

■ Yv 



354 CHAPTER XXV. 

unendurable as they had been before, they were aggra- 
vated by the insults of the national guard to every pas- 
senger to and from the palace. I was myself in so much 
peril, that the princess thought it necessary to procure a 
trusty person, of tried courage, to see me through the 
throngs, with a large band box of all sorts of fashionable 
millinery, as the mode of ingress and egress least liable to 
excite suspicion. 

Thus equipped, and guarded by my cicisheo, I one 
day found myself, on entering the Thuilleries, in the 
midst of an immense mob of regular trained rioters, who, 
seeing me go towards the palace, directed their attention 
entirely to pie. They took me for some one belonging 
to the queen's milliner, Madame Bertin, who, they said, 
was fattening upon the public misery, through the queen's 
extravagance. The poor queen herself they called by 
names so opprobious, that decency will not suffer me to 
repeat them. With a volley of oaths, pressing upon usj 
they bore us to another part of the garden, for the pur- 
pose of compelling us to behold six or eight of the most 
infamous outcasts, amusing themselves, in a state of ex- 
posure, with their accursed hands and arms tinged with 
blood up to the elbows. The spot they had chosen for 
this exhibition of their filfoy persons was immediately 
before the windows of the apanments of the queen and 
the ladies of the courto Here they paraded up and down, 
to the great entertainment of a throng of savage rebels^ 
by whom they were applauded and encouraged with 
shouts ©f " Bis ! his /" signifying in English, " Again \ 
again !" 

The demoniac interest excited by this scene withdrew 
the attention of those who were enjoying it, from me, 
and gave me the opportunity of escaping unperceived, 
merely with the loss of ray band box. Of that the in- 
furiated mob made themselves masters; and the hats, 



CHAPTER XXY. 355 

caps, bonnets, and other articles of female attire, were 
placed on the parts of their degraded carcasses, which, 
for the honour of human nature, should have been 
shot. 

Overcome with agony at these insults, I burst from the 
garden in a flood of tears. On passing the gate, I was 
accosted by a person, who exclaimed in a tone of great 
kindness, '^ Qii'as tu, ma bonne? qu'est ce qui vous 
afflige ?" Knowing the risk I should run in representing 
the real cause of my concern, I immediately thought of 
ascribing it to the loss of the property of which I had 
been plundered. I told him I was a poor milliner, and 
had been robbed of every thing I possessed in the world, 
by the mob. " Come back with me," said he, <^ and I 
will have it restored to you," I knew it was of no avail, 
but policy stimulated me to comply ; and I returned with 
him into the garden toward the palace. 

What should I have felt had I been aware, when this 
man came up, that I was accosted by the villain Danton ! 
The person who was with me knew him, but dared not 
speak, and watched a chance of escaping in the crowd 
for fear of being discovered. When I looked round and 
found myself alone, I said I had lost my brother in the 
confusion, which added to my grief. 

" Oh, never mind," said Danton ; ^' take hold of my 
arm ; no one shall molest you. We will look for your 
brother, and try to recover your things ;" and on we 
went together : I, weeping, I may truly say, for my life, 
stopped at every step, while he related my doleful story 
to all whose curiosity was excited by my grief. 

On my appearing arm in arm with Danton before the 
windows of the queen's apartments, we were observed by 
her majesty and the princesses. Their consternation and 
perplexity, as well as alarm for my safety, may readily be 
concv^ived. A signal from the window instantly appri- 



356 CHAPTER XXV» 

zed me, that I might enter the palace, to which my re= 
turn had been for some time impatiently expected. 

Finding it could no longer be of any service to carry 
on the farce of seeking my pretended brother, I begged 
to be escorted out of the mob to the apartments of the 
Princess Lamballe. 

^'^ Oh,*' said Danton, ^^ certainly ! and if you had only 
told the people that you were going to that good prin- 
cess, I am sure your things would not have been taken 
from you. But,'' added he, ^^ are you perfectly certain 
they were not for that detestable Maria Antoinette ?" 

^^Oh!" I replied, "quite, quite certain!" All this 
while the mob was at my heels. 

^« Then," said he, " I will not leave you till you are 
safe in the apartments of the Princess Lamballe, and I 
will myself make known to her your loss: she is so good," 
continued he, " that I am convinced she will make yoa 
just compensation.'' 

When we entered the palace, he said to the national 
guard, " Voila, mes enfans, une pauvre malheureuse qui 
a ete volee de toutes ses marchandises ; mais je vais chez 
la Lamballe moi meme avec elle"— but he omitted her 
title of princess. 

I then told him how much I should be obliged by his 
doing so, as I had been commissioned to deliver the 
things, and if I was made to pay for them, the loss would 
be more serious than I could bear. 

^i Bah ! bah !" exclaimed he. ^^ Laissez moi faire ! 
Laissez moi faire ! !" 

When he came to the inner door, which I pretend- 
ed to know nothing about, he told the gentleman of 
the chamber his name, and said he wished to see his 
jiiistress. 

Her highness came in a few minutes, and from her 
looks and visible agitation at the sight of Danton, I feared 



CHAPTER XXV. 357 

she would have betrayed both herself and me. How- 
ever, while he was making a long preamble, I made 
signs, from which she inferred that all was safe. 

When Danton had finished telling her the story, she 
calmly said to me, ^^ Do you recollect, child, the things 
you have been robbed of?" 

I replied, that if I had pen and ink, I could even set 
down the prices. 

" Oh, well then, child, come in," said her highness, 
^^ and we will see what is to be done !" 

"There!' exclaimed Danton; "did I not tell you 
this before ?" Then, giving me a hearty squeeze of the 
hand, he departed, and thus terminated the millinery 
speculation, which, I have no doubt, cost her highness a 
tolerable sum. 

As soon as he was gone, the princess said, '^For 
Heaven's sake, tell me the whole of this affair candidly ; 
for the queen has been in the greatest agitation at the 
bare idea of your knowing Danton, ever since we first 
saw you walking with him ! He is one of our most in- 
veterate enemies.'' 

I said, that if they had but witnessed one half of 
the scenes that I saw, I was sure their feelings would 
have been shocked beyond description. " We did not 
see all, but we heard too much for the ears of our sex." 

I then related the particulars of our meeting to her 
highness, who observed, " This accident, however un- 
pleasant, may still turn out to our advantage. This fel- 
low believes you to be a marchande de modes, and the 
circumstance of his having accompanied you to my apart- 
ment, will enable you, in future, to pass to and from the 
pavilion, unmolested by the national guard. 

With tears of joy in her eyes for my safety, she could 
not, however, help laughing when I told her the farce I 
kept up respecting the loss of my brother, and my band- 



358 CHAPTER XXV. 

box with the millinery, for which I was also soon eon- 
gratulated most graciously by her majesty, who much 
applauded my spirit and presence of mind, and conde- 
scended, immediately, to intrust me with letters of the 
greatest importance for some of the most distinguished 
members of the assembly, with which I left the palace in 
triumph, but taking care to be ready with a proper story 
of my losses. 

When I passed the guard-room, I was pitied by the 
very wretches, who, perhaps, had already shared in the 
spoils; and who would have butchered me, no doubt, 
into the bargain, could they have penetrated the real ob- 
ject of my mission. They asked me, if I had been paid 
for the loss I sustained. I told them I had not, but I 
was promised that it should be settled. 

^' Settled 1" said one of the wretches. " Get the mo- 
ney as soon as you can. Do not trust to promises of its 
being settled. They will all be settled themselves soon I" 
The next day, on going to the palace, I found the 
Princess Lamballe in the greatest agitation, from the ac- 
counts the court had just received of the murder of a 
man belonging to Arthur Dillon, and of the massacres at 
Nantes. 

*<The horrid prints, pamphlets, and caricatures," 
cried she, '^ daily exhibited under the very windows of 
the Thuilleries, against his majesty, the queen, the Aus- 
trian party, and Coblentz party j the constant thwarting 
of every plan 5 and these last horrors at Nantes ; have so 
overwhelmed the king, that he is nearly become. a mere 
automaton. Daily and nightly execrations are howled 
in his ears. Look at our boasted deliverers ! The poor 
queen, her children, and all of us belonging to the pa- 
lace, are in danger of our lives at merely being seen ; 
while they, by whom we have been so long buoyed up 
with hope, are quarrelling amongst themselves for the ho- 



CHAPTER XXV. 359 

nour and etiquette of precedency, leaving us to the fury 
of a race of cannibals, who know no mercy, and will have 
destroyed us, long before their disputes of etiquette can 
be settled." 

The utterance of her highness, while saying this, was 
rendered almost inarticulate by her tears. 

<* What support against internal disorganization," con- 
tinued she, " is to be expected from so disorganized a 
body as the present array of diiFerent nations, having all 
different interests?" 

I said there was no doubt that the Prussian army was 
on its march, and would soon be joined by that of the 
princes and of Austria. 

" You speak as you wish, mia cara Inglesinaf but it 
is all to no purpose. Would to God they had never 
been applied to, never been called upon to interfere. 
Oh, that her majesty could have been persuaded to listen 
to Duraourier and some other of the members, instead of 
relying on succours, which, I fear, will never enter Pa- 
ris in our life-time ! No army can subdue a nation ; es- 
pecially a nation frenzied by the recent recovery of its 
freedom and independence from the shackles of a cor- 
rupt and weak administration. The king is too good : 
the queen has no equal as to heart ; but they have both 
been most grossly betrayed. The royalists on one side, 
the constitutionalists on the other, will be the victims of 
the jacobins, for they are the most powerful, they are 
the most united, they possess the most talent, and they 
act in a body, and not merely for the time being. Be- 
lieve me, my dear, their plans are too well grounded to 
be defeated, as every one framed by the fallacious con- 
stitutionalists and mad^headed royalists has been ; and so 
they will ever be, while they continue to form two sepa- 
rate interests. From the very first moment, when these 
two bodies were worked upon separately, I told (he 



360 CHAPTER XXV. 

queen^ that till they were united for the same object.^ 
the monarchy would be unsafe, and at the mercy of the 
jacobinsj who, from hatred to both parties, would over- 
throw it themselves, to rule despotically over those 
whom they no longer respected or feared, but whom they 
hatedj as considering them both equally their former op- 
pressors.." 

^^ May the All seeing Power," continued her high- 
ness, ^^ grant, for the good of this shattered state, that I 
may be mistaken, and that my predictions may prove 
diiferent in the result ; but of this I see np hope, unless 
in the strength of our own internal resources. God 
knows how powerful they might prove could they be 
united at this moment! But from the anarchy and di= 
vision kept up between them, I see no prospect of their 
being brought to bear, except in a general overthrow of 
this, as you have justly observed, organized system of 
disorders, from which at some future period, we may 
obtain a solid, systematic order of governments Would 
Charles the Second ever have reigned after the murder 
of his father, had England been torn to pieces by dif- 
ferent factions ? No ! It was the union of the body of 
the nation for its internal tranquillity, the amalgamation 
of parties against domestic faction, which gave vigour to 
the arm of power, and enabled the nation to check fo- 
reign interference abroad, while it annihilated anarchy at 
home. By that means the Protector himself laid the 
first stone of the Restoration. The division of a na« 
tion is the surest harbinger of success to its invaders^ 
the death blow to its sovereign's authority, and the to- 
tal destruction of that innate energy, by which alone 
a country can obtain the dignity of its own'' indepen- 
dence." 



( 361 ) 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

Affecting interview between the queen, Princess Elizabeth, Prln" 
cess Lamballe, and the editor. — Princess Lamballe communi- 
cates the intention of the queen, to send the editor on a mis- 
sion to her royal relations. — Receives the cipher of the Italian 
correspondence. — Presents given to the editor previous to her 
departure. — Instructions from the Princess. — Sees her for the 
last time. — Quits France. — Contrast between the Dutchess of 
Parma and the Queen of Naples, on the receipt of her majes- 
ty's letters. — Conversation of the Queen of Naples with Gene- 
ral Acton. 

While her highness Was thus pondering on the dread° 
ful situation of Francej, strengthening her arguments by 
those historical illustrations which, from the past, ena- 
bled her to look into the future, a message came to her 
from her majesty. She left me ; and, in a few minutes^ 
returned to her apartment, accompanied by the queen, 
and her royal highness the Princess Elizabeth. I was 
pTeatly surprised at seeing these two illustrious and au- 
gust personages bathed in tears. Of course, I could not 
be aware of any new motive to create any new or ex- 
traordinary emotion : yet there was in the countenances 
of all the party, an appearance different from any thing 
I had ever witnessed in them, or any other person be- 
fore ; a something which seemed to say, they no longer 
had any affinity with the rest of earthly beings. I will 
therefore endeavour to convey some idea of the impres- 
sion which each, respectively, made on me at the mo- 
ment. 

The look of the Princess Elizabeth was perfectly ce- 
lestial 5 she seemed as if loosened from every mortal tie^ 

Z z 



362 CHAPTEll XXVI« 

and her soul, dwelling far from the polluted state of 
earthly vegetation, was already consigned to the regions 
of immortal bliss, with no thought of worldly cares, but 
aspirations for the happiness and eternal pardon of those, 
who had made its abode to her and her's so horribly la- 
mentable! 

In the air of her majesty, the queen, shone all the 
dignity of that heroic spirit, which even the weight of 
misfortune, irremovable on this side the grave, could 
not overwhelm. Though her heavenly blue eyes no 
longer dazzled with those bursts of fire, which once pe- 
netrated into the secret recesses of every heart, and 
gladdened the soul of every beholder, with sympathetic 
aifection; though they were sunken in their sockets, ne- 
ver more to emerge from earthly grief, and turned to-> 
wards the asylum of future tranquillity beyond the earthj, 
yet they still spoke the greatness and supernatural 
strength of her character; and their splendour while 
setting in eternal darkness, was still the brightness of a 
setting sun. 

The Princess Lamballe seemed a beautiful form, ani- 
mated by some saint-like spirit, with scarcely a consci- 
ousness of its own existence, and with no thought but 
that of consoling those around, and no desire but that of 
smoothing their path to those mansions of eternal peace 
to which she had already, by anticipation, consigned 
herself. She appeared as if, through heavenly revela- 
tions, only solicitous to sustain others, by the assurances 
she found so consolatory to herself. Her countenance 
beamed with a serenity perfectly supernatural, under 
such circumstances, in one of her weak sex. Her air 
was elevated and firm, though not presumptuous. The 
graces, that played about her, bespoke her already the 
crowned martyr of Elysium, rather than the exposed 
victim of earthly assassinSo Her voice was like the tones 



CHAPTER XXVi. 363 

of angels ; her looks — Oh ! never shall I forget the glance 
which told me, ^^ I see before me the mansion of peace. 
If we meet no more, be it your consolation for my un- 
timely end, that I am happy!" 

I am conscious of the faintness of my delineation of 
these three heroic princesses, when last I had the honour 
of seeing them : and even were my powers of descrip- 
tion of the highest order, they must have fallen infinite- 
ly short of the indelible impression of that ever lament- 
ed day! After the numberless kindnesses I had received, 
the infinite condescensions and liberalities, to find them 
still, in the midst of such miseries of their own, when in 
hourly peril of their lives, so solicitous to screen me from 

danger but the subject is too painful : let me go on 

with the interview. 

I have already remarked, that the two august person- 
ages who accompanied the Princess Lamballe were in 
tears. I soon discovered the cause. They had all been 
just writing to their distant friends and relations. A fa- 
tal presentiment, alas ! too soon verified, told them it was 
for the last time. 

Her highness, the Princess Lamballe, now approach- 
ed me. 

*^ Her majesty," observed the princess, ^* wishes to 
give you a mark of her esteem, in delivering to you, with 
her own hands, letters to her family, which it is her in- 
tention to intrust to your especial care. 

" On this step her majesty has resolved, as much to 
send you out of the way of danger, as, from the convic- 
tion occasioned by the firm reliance your conduct has 
created in us, that you will faithfully obey the orders 
you may receive, and execute our intentions with that 
peculiar intelligence, which the emergency of the case 
requires. 

•^ But even the desirable opportunity which offei'S; 



364 CHAPTER XXVI. 

through youj for the accomplishment of the mission, 
might not have prevailed with lier majesty, to hasten 
your departure, had not the wretch Danton twice inquir- 
ed at the palace for the *^^ little milliner," whom he res- 
cued and conducted safe to the apartments of the Pavilion 
of Flora. This, probably, may be a matter of no real 
consequence whatever ; but it is our duty to avoid dan- 
ger, and it has been decided that you should, at least for 
a time, absent yourself from Paris. 

ic Pg^ qIq^ fyiia cara Inghnna^ speak now freely and 
candidly: is it your wish to return to England, or go 
elsewhere? For though we are all sorry to lose you, yet 
it would be a source of still greater sorrow to us, prizing 
your services and fidelity as we do, should any plans and 
purposes of ours lead you into difficulty or embarrass- 
ment.'" 

^^ 0h, mon Dieu ! c'est vrai V^ interrupted her majes- 
ty, her eyes at the same time filled with tears. 

^^ I should never forgive myself,*' continued the prin- 
cess, ^^ if I should prove the cause of any misfortune t® 
you." 

^^ Nor I !" most graciously subjoined the queen. 

^<^ Therefore," pursued the princess, ^^ speak youi> 
mind without reserve." 

I was however so completely overwhelmed by my feel- 
ings, that notwithstanding frequent attempts, I found my- 
self totally incapable, for some time, even to express the 
gratitude I naturally felt for such unbounded condescen- 
sion, which did not fail to produce the greatest sensibility 
on the illustrious personages who witnessed my embarrass- 
ment ; and when at last my tears permitted me the facul- 
ty of utterance, I could only articulate in broken ac- 
cents. 

The Princess Lamballe approached me, I took her 
hand; I bathed it with my tears, as she, at the same mo= 



CHAPTER XXVI. ^65 

ment, was bathing ray face with hers. Sobbing all the 
while, I replied, " that I was a stranger to fear, except 
that of incurring their displeasure ; that though to quit 
Paris and their august personages would be a severe sa- 
crifice at a period so critical, yet it must greatly diminish 
my reluctance to know, that I had the honour to be con- 
sidered as useful elsewhere. I sincerely hoped they had 
not been influenced in their wish to remove me from any 
doubt of my fidelity, as their confidence in me formed 
the pride of my life ; and I added, that the poignant re- 
gret I felt, at being compelled to withdraw myself, in 
obedience to their royal commands, could only be dimi- 
nished by the flattering prospect, that the missions which 
occasioned my absence, would tend to console and render 
them more happy, on my return ; a wish that would 
every where accompany me, and would never be extin- 
guished but with my existence.'' 

Here my own feelings, and the sobs of the illustrious 
party, completely overcame me, and I could not pro- 
ceed. The Princess Lamballe clasped me in her arms. 
^^ Not only letters," exclaimed she, " but ray life I 
would trust to the fidelity of my t'era, verissimUf cara 
Ingiesina ! And now," continued her highness, turning 
round to the queen, " will it please your majesty to give 
Inglesina your commands." 

*^ Here, then," said the queen, ^^ is a letter for my 
dear sister, the Queen of Naples, which you must deliver 
into her own hands. 

"^^ Here is another for my sister, the Dutchess of 
Parma. If she should not be at Parma, you will find 
her at Colorno. 

^^ This is for my brother, the Arch-duke of Milan ; 
this for ray sister-in-law, the Princess Clotilda Piedmont, 
at Turin ; aud here are four others. You will take off 
the envelope when you get to Turin, and then put them 



366 CHAPTER XXYI. 

into the post yourself. Do not give them to, or send 
them by, any person whatsoever. 

*^ Tell ray sisters the state of Paris. Inform them of 
our cruel situation. Describe the riots and convulsions 
you have seen. Above all, assure them how dear they 
are to me, and how much 1 love them." 

At the word lov eyhtr majesty threw herself on a sofa, 
and wept bitterly. 

The Princess Elizabeth gave me a letter for her sister, 
and two for her aunts, to be delivered to them, if at 
Rome; but if not, to be put under cover, and sent 
through the post at Rome to whatever place they might 
have made their residence. 

I had also a packet of letters to deliver for the Prin- 
cess Lamballe at Turin ; and another for the Duke de 
Serbelloni at Milan. 

Her majesty and the Princess Elizabeth not only al- 
lowed me the honour to kiss their hands, but they both 
gave me their blessing, and good wishes for my safe re- 
turn, and then left me with the Princess Lamballe. 

Her majesty had scarcely left the apartment of the 
princess, when I recollected she had forgotten to give me 
the cipher and the key for the letters.* The princess 

* Madame Campan, Vol. II. page 176, alludes to the queen's 
cipher, and represents very truly its being impossible to detect it ; 
for should the cipher or even the correspondence be lost or taken, 
neither could be understood by any but the two persons so cor= 
responding. 

The cipher, however, which Madame Campan often assisted 
her majesty in copying, and which was selected from Paul and 
Virginia, was merely for the Paris correspondence, and principal- 
ly for^that of Bertrand de Moleville ; different altogether from 
the one I allude to, and which was only used by the queen in cor- 
responding with her Italian relations. This is still in my posses- 
sion, and has been so ever since the unfortunate moment I am now 
describing. 



CHAPTEll XXVIo 367 

immediately went to the queen's apartment, and return- 
ed with them shortly after, 

" Now that we are alone," said her highness, " I will 
tell you what her majesty has graciously commanded 
me to signify to you, in her royal name. The queen 
commands me to say, that you are provided for, for life ; 
and that, on the first vacancy which may occur, she in- 
tends fixing you at court. 

^^ Therefore, mira cava InglesinUf take especial care 

As this cipher may be a subject of some curiosity to my readers, 
I annex it. It can only be applied to the Italian language which 
has no k and no double vowels. It is scarcely necessary to ob- 
serve that Maria Antoinette corresponded almost exclusively in 
Italian. If well understood before hand, with the possession of 
the key, the deciphering, after a little practice, becomes very 
easy. For instance, take for a key the word Lodovico ; and sup- 
pose that you wish te write the ciphers for the words " Maria 
Antonia, Regina di Francia; set down the whole line, and imme- 
diately over each letter write the separate letters of the key, or 
word Lodovico, successively, thus: 

^€J/—- L ODOVICOLODOVICOLOJDOVICOLOD 
Subject M A R I A-A N T O N I A-R E G I N A-D I-F R A N C I A. 

Then in the first alphabet of the large initials of the Cipher, (see 
the beginning of the volume) the letter L must be sought, and on 
the traversal line being traced for M it will be found in the same 
square with q, which must be set down ; then in the large initials 
look for 0, and a will be found in the small square with t, put t 
down, and proceed, in the same manner, with each letter of the 
key and subject, the result will be 

Q T E q Y-R A A I F X T-G X T q H T-q q-q A N F T q N. 

On receiving this, the person with whom it has been agreed to 
correspond by the word Lodovico as the key, will apply the sepa- 
rate letters of the word to decipher it, and taking L of the key 
large initials, will seek on the transversal lines for the cipher q 
which will be found with m ; in the same manner o and t produce 
A ; D and e =r ; o and q =i 5 v and y = a 5 i and r =a, &c, so 
that the deciphering will be 

Maria antonia regina di francia. 



368 CHAPTEIl XXVI. 

what you are about, and obey her majesty's wishes when 
you are absent, as implicitly as you have hitherto done 
all her commands during your abode near her. You are 
not to write to any one. No one is to be made acquaint- 
ed with your route. You are not to leave Paris in your 
own carriage. It will be sent after you by your man 
servant, who is to join you at Chalons on the Saone. 

^^ I have further to inform you, that her majesty, the 
queen, on sending you the cipher, has at the same time, 
graciously condescended to add these presents, as further 
marks of her esteem." 

Her highness then showed me a most beautiful gold 
watch, chain and seals. ^' 

^' These," said she, placing them with her own hands, 
'^ her majesty desired me to put round your neck in tes- 
timony of her regard." 

At the same time, her highness presented me, on her 
own part, with a beautiful pocket-book, the covers of 
which were of gold enamelled, with the word Souvenir 
in diamonds on one lide, and a large cipher of her own 
initials on the other. The first page contained the 
names of the queen and her royal highness the Princess 
Elizabeth, in their own hand-writing. There was a 
check in it on a Swiss banker, at Milan, of the name of 
Bonny, t 

* It was a very handsome repeatei-, set round with diamonds 
and pearls ; and the chain and seals set with beautiful gems. 

t The greater part of the time I resided in Milan, I was enter- 
tained at the house of this banker, although the check was of no 
use to me. Payment was refused in consequence of what hap- 
pened at Paris on the 10th of August j but M. Bonny gave me 
what money I wanted on my own signature, an apartment in his 
house, and the use of his table, for all of which he was handsome- 
ly remunerated, on my arrival at Naples, through the means of 
Sir William Hamilton, upon whose kindness I was thrown by the 



CHAPTER XXVI. 369 

Having given me these invaluable tokens, her high- 
ness proceeded with her instructions. 

^' At Chalons," continued she, " 7nia caret, your man 
servant will perhaps bring you other letters. Take two 
places in the stage for yourself and your femme de 
chambre, in her name, and give me the memorandum^ 
that our old friend the driver may procure the pass- 
ports. You must not be seen ; for there is no doubt that 
Danton has given the police a full description of your 
person. Now go and prepare : we shall see each other 
again before your departure." 

Only a few minutes afterwards, my man servant came 
to me to say, that it would be some hours before the 
stage would set off, and that there was a lady in her car- 



loss of a trunk containing all my valuables and money. This 
disaster occurred between Acqua Pendenti and Monte Rosi. My 
servant, who generally had his feet on the carriage box containing 
tlie trunk, had been sent on before to order horses, that I mighfc 
reach Rome in the day time. It was during this interval that the 
trunk was cut away, that part of the Roman states from the Mala- 
ria being only inhabited by notorious assassins and common 
thieves, under the protection of some cardinal or other, as was 
the practice then. Had it not been for the kindness of the good 
Dutchess de Paoli, who resided at the Fontana de Trevi, I should 
have been very much embarrassed, when I arrived at Rome, to 
have got on to Naples. Indeed, I must do the Italian nobility 
the justice to say, that I generally met with the fi;reatest hospitali- 
ty from them every where j and even the Dutchess de Strozzi, of 
Florence, when she heard of the accident, wrote to me at Naples, 
offering her assistance, which I declined, though very grateful for 
such testimonies of esteem from a mere letter of introduction. 

Though Sir William Hamilton used every exertion in his 
power, with the Roman authorities, io regain my property, no- 
thing more was ever heard of the matter, nor did I recover the 
most trifling article. Yet the ivio postillions were known as com- 
mon thieves, having been detected in attempting the same on ano- 
ther EDgHsh family, only eight days previous. 

3A 



370 CHAPTER XXVIo 

riage waiting fop me in the Bois de Boulogne. I has- 
tened thither. What was my surprise on finding it was 
the princess. I now saw her for the last time ! 

Let me pass lightly over this sad moment. I must not^ 
however, dismiss the subject, without noticing the visible 
changes which had taken place in the short space of a 
month, in the appearance of all these illustrious princes- 
ses. Their very complexions were no longer the samcj 
as if grief had changed the whole mass of their blood. 
The queen, in particular, from the month of July, to the 
second of August, looked ten years older. The other 
two princesses were really worn out with fatigue, anxie- 
ty, and the want of rest, as, during the whole month of 
July, they scarcely ever slept, for fear of being murder- 
ed in their beds, and only threw themselves on them, 
now and then, without undressing. The king, three or 
four times in the night, would go round to their differ- 
ent apartments, fearful they might be destroyed in their 
sleep, and ask, ^^ Etes vous la .^" when they would an- 
swer him from within, JVous sommes encore iciJ^ In- 
deed, if, when nature was exhausted, sleep by chance 
came to the relief of their worn out and languid frameSj 
it was only to awaken them to fresh horrors, which con- 
stantly threatened the convulsion, by which they were 
finally annihilated. 

It would be uncandid in me to be silent concerning the 
marked difference I found in the feelings of the two roy- 
al sisters of her majesty. 

I had never had the honour before to execute any 
commissions for her royal highness the Dutchess of Par= 
ma, and, of course, took that city in way to Naples. 

« This fact was mentioned to me by a confidential person, who 
often remained in the apartment during the day,, while her high- 
Bess would herself repose upon a coacli» 



CHAPTER XXVI. 371 

I did not reach Parma till after tlie horrors whicli had 
taken place at the Thuilleries on the 10th of August, 
1793. The whole of the unfortunate royal family of 
France were then lodged in the Temple. There was 
not a feeling heart in Europe unmoved at their afflicting 
situation. 

I arrived at Colorno, the country residence of the 
Dutchess of Parma, just as her royal highness was going 
out on horseback. 

I ordered my servant to inform one of the pages, that 
I came by express from Paris, and requested the honour 
to know when it would be convenient for her royal high- 
ness to allow me a private audience, as I was going, post 
haste, to Rome and Naples. Of course, I did not choose 
to tell my business either to my own or her royal high- 
ness's servant, being in honour and duty bound to deliv- 
er the letter and the verbal message of her then truly 
unfortunate sister, in person and in privacy. 

The mention of PariSf I saw, somewhat startled and 
confused her. Meantime, she came near enough to my 
carriage for me to say to her in German, in order that 
none of the servants, French or Italian, might under- 
stand, that I had a letter to deliver into her own hands^ 
without saying from whom. 

She then desired I would alight, and she soon follow- 
ed me; and after having very graciously ordered me 
some refreshments, asked me from whom I had been 
sent. 

I delivered her majesty's letter. Before she opened 
it, she exclaimed, " O Bio! tutto e perdiito e troppo 
tardif Oh, God! all is lost, it is too late!" I then gave 
her the cipher and the key. In a few minutes I enabled 
her to decipher the letter. On getting through it, she 
again exclaimed, ^^ E tutto inutile! it is entirely use- 
less! I am afraid thev are all lost. I am forry you are 



372 CHAPTER XXVI, 

SO situated as not to allow of your remaining here to rest 
from your fatigue. Whenever you come to Parma, I 
shall be glad to see you." 

She then took out her pocket handkerchief, shed a 
few tears, and said, that as circumstances were now so 
totally changed, to answer the letter might only commit 
her, her sister, and myself ; but that if affairs took the 
turn she ivished, no doubt, her sister would write again. 
She then mounted her horse, and wished me a good jour- 
ney ; and I took leave, and set off for Rome. 

I must confess, that the conduct of the Dutchess of 
Parma appeared to me rather cold, if not unfeeling. 
Perhaps she was afraid of showing too much emotion^ 
and wished to encourage the idea, that princesses ought 
not to give way to sensibility, like common mortals. 

But how different was the conduct of the Queen of 
Naples! She kissed the letter: she bathed it with her 
tears! Scarcely could she allow herself time to deci- 
pher it. At every sentence she exclaimed, ^^ Oh, ray 
dear, oh, my adored sister! What will become of her? 
My brothers are now both no more! Surely she will 
soon be liberated!" Then, turning suddenly to me, she 
asked with eagerness, "Do you not think she will? Oh, 
Maria, Maria! why did she not fly to Vienna? Why 
did she not come to me instead of writing? Tell me, 
for God's sake, all you know!" 

I said, I knew nothing further of what had taken 
place at Paris, having travelled night and day, except 
what I had heard from the different couriers, which I 
had met and stopped on my route; but I hoped to be 
better informed by Sir William Hamilton, as all my let- 
ters were to be sent from France to Turin, and thence, 
on to Sir William, at Naples; and if I found no let- 
ters with him, I should immediately set off and return 
to Turjn, or Milan, to be as near France as possible foF 



CHAPTER XXVI. 373 

my speedy return, if necessary. I ventured to add, 
that it was ray earnest prayer, that all the European sove- 
reigns would feel the necessity of interesting themselves 
for the royal family of France, with whose fate the fate 
of monarchy throughout Europe might be interwoven. 

'^ Oh, God of Heaven!" cried the queen. ^^ All that 
dear family may ere now have been murdered! Per- 
haps, they are already numbered among the dead ! Oh, 
my poor, dear, beloved Maria ! Oh, I shall go frantic ! 
I must send for General Acton." 

Wringing her hands, she pulled the bell, and in a few 
minutes the general came. On his entering the apart- 
ment, she flew to him like one deprived of reason. 

"There!" exclaimed she. *^ There! Behold the fa- 
tal consequences!" showing him the letter. " Louis the 
XVI. is in the state of Charles the First of England, and 
ray sister will certainly be murdered." 

" No, no, no!" exclaimed the general. ^^ Something 
will be done. Calm yourself, madam," Then, turning 
to me. <^ When," said he, **^did you leave Paris?" 

^^ When all was lost!" interrupted the queen. 

^^ Nay," cried the general ; ^"^ pray let rae speak. All 
is not lost, you will find: have but a little patience." 

^^ Patience!" said the queen. "For two years I 
have heard of nothing else. Nothing has been done for 
these unfortunate beings." She then threw herself into 
a chair. "Tell him!" cried she to me: "tell him! 
tell him!"— 

I then informed the general, that I had left Paris on 
the second of August, but did not believe at the time, 
though the daily riots were horrible, that such a catas- 
trophe could have occurred so soon as eight days after. 

The queen was now quite exhausted, and General Ac- 
ton rang the bell for the lady in waiting, who entered 



374 CHAPTEB XXVI. 

accompanied by the Dutchess Curigliano Marini, and 
they assisted her majesty to bed. 

When she had retired, " Do not," said the general to 
me, '' do not go to Sir William's to night. He is at 
Caserte. You seem too much fatigued." 

'' More from grief," replied I, " and reflection on the 
fatal consequences that might result to the great person- 
ages I have so lately left, than from the journey.'^ 

" Take my advice," resumed he. " You had much 
better go to bed and rest yourself. You look very ill." 

I did as he recommended^ and went to the nearest 
hotel I could find. I felt no fatigue of mind or body 
till I had got into bed, where I was confined for several 
days with a most violent fever. Daring my illness I re- 
ceived every attention both from the court, and our Am- 
bassador and Lady Hamilton, who kindly visited me 
every day. The Queen of Naples I never again saw till 
my return in 1793, after the murder of the Queen of 
France ; and I am glad I did not, for her agony would 
have acted anew upon my disordered frame, and might 
have proved fataL 

I was certainly somewhat prepared for a difference of 
feeling between the two princesses, as the unfortunate 
Maria Antoinette, in the letters to the Queen of Naples, 
always wrote, '^ to my much beloved sister, the Queen of 
the two Sicilies, &c.," and to the other, merely, ^*to the 
Dutchess of Parma, &c." But I could never have 
dreamt of a difference so little flattering, under such cir- 
cumstances, to the Dutchess of Parma. 



( 375 ) 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

Tenth of August at Paris. — ^Mandat slain. — ^The royal family 
escape to the hall of Assembly. — Transferred to the Thuil- 
leries. — Imprisoned in the Temple. — False information to get 
the female attendants removed. — The Princess Lamballe sees 
the queen for the last time. — Her examination before the au 
thorities. — Is transferred with others to the prison de La Force- 
—Massacre of the prisons. — Efforts of the Duke of Penthievre, 
to preserve the Princess Lamballe, innocently defeated. — The 
princess questioned by the bloody tribunal. — Taken out before 
the mob. — Receives the first stab from a mulatto, whom she 
had brought up.— Her head severed from her body, and paraded 
on a pole. — The body stripped and exposed to incredible bru 
tality. — The head taken by the mob to the Temple — Effect of 
the circumstance on her majesty. — A servant maid of the edi- 
tor's dies of fright at seeing it. — Effect of the procession of the 
Duke of Orleans and his mistress. — Visit of the editor to the 
cemetry of La Madeleine, some years after. 

From the moment of my departure from Paris on the 
2nd of August, 1792, the tragedy hastened to its denoue- 
ment. On the night of the 9th the tocsin was sounded, 
and the king and the royal family looked upon their fate 
as sealed. Notwithstanding the personal firmness of his 
majesty, he was a coward for others. He dreaded the 
responsibility of ordering blood to be shed, even in de- 
fence of his nearest and dearest interests. Petion, 
however, had given the order to repel force by force to 
Mandat, who was murdered upon the steps of the Hotel- 
de-Ville. It has been generally supposed, that Petion 
had received a bribe, for not ordering the cannon against 
the Thuilleries on the night of the 9th, and that Mandat 
Was massacred by the agents of Petion. for the purpose 



376 CHAPTER xxvir. 

of extingaishing all proof, that he was only acting under 
the instructions of the Mayor. 

I shall not undertake to judge of the propriety of the 
king's impression, that there was no safety from the in- 
surgents but in the hall, and under the protection of the 
Assembly. Had the members been well disposed to- 
wards him, the event might have proved very different* 
But there is one thing certain. The queen would never 
have consented to this step, but to save the king, and 
her innocent children. She would have preferred death 
to the humiliation of being under obligations to her 
sworn enemies; but she was overcome by the king de- 
claring, with tears in his eyes, that he would not quit 
the palace without her. The Princesses Elizabeth and 
Laraballe fell at her feet, — implored her majesty to obey 
the king, and assured her there was no alternative be- 
tween instant death, and refuge from it in the Assembly. 
" Well,'' said the queen, " if our lot be death, let us 
away to receive it with the national sanction." 

I need not expatiate on the succession of horrors, 
which now overwhelmed the royal sufferers. Their con- 
finement at the Feuillans, and their subsequent transfer 
to the Temple, are all topics sufficiently enlarged upon 
by many who were actors in the scenes to which they 
led. The Princess Lamballe was, while it was permit- 
ted, the companion of their captivity. But the consola- 
tion of her society was considered too great to be con- 
tinued. Her fate had no doubt been predetermined! 
and, unwilling to await the slow proceedings of a trial, 
which it was thought politic should precede the murder 
of her royal mistress, it was found necessary to detach 
her from the wretched inmates of the Temple, in order 
to have her more completely within the control of the 
miscreants, who hated her for her virtues. The expe» 
dient was resprted tOg of casting suspicion upon the cor- 



CHAPTER XXMr. 377 

I'espondeiice, which her highness kept op with the ex- 
terior of the prison, for the purpose of obtaining sucli 
necessaries as were required, in consequence of the utter 
destitution, in which the royal family retired from the 
Thuilleries. Two men, of the name of Devin and Pri- 
quet, were bribed to create a suspicion, by their informa- 
tions against the queen's female attendant. The first 
declared, that, on the 18th of August, while he was on 
duty near the cell of the king, he saw a female, about 
eleven o'clock in the day, come from a room in the cen- 
tre, holding in one hand three letters, and with the other 
cautiously opening the door of the right-hand chamber, 
whence she presently came back without the letters, and 
returned into the centre chamber. He further asserted; 
that twice, when this female opened the door, he dis- 
tinctly saw a letter half written, and every evidence of 
an eagerness to hide it from observation. The second 
informant, Priquet, swore, that, while on duty as morn- 
ing sentinel on the gallery between the two towers, he 
saw, through the window of the central chamber, a fe- 
male writing with great earnestness and alarm, during the 
whole time he was on guard. 

All the ladies were immediately summoned before the 
authorities. The hour of the separation between the 
princess and her royal friend accorded with the solemni- 
ty of the circumstance. It was nearly midnight when 
they were torn asunder, and they never met again. 

The examinations were all separate. That of the 
Princess Lamballe was as follows : 
Q, Your name ? 

^4. Marie-Therese-Louis de Savoy, Bourbon Lamballe. 
Q. What do you know of the events which occurred on 

the 10th of August? 
».^. Nothing- 

Q. Where did you pass that day ? 

3B 



378 CHAPTER XXVII. 

Jl. As a relative, I followed the king to the National 

Assembly. 
Q. Were you in bed on the night of the ninth and tenth? 
A, No. 

Q. Where were you then ? 
A. In my apartments at the chateau. 
Q. Did you not go to the apartments of the king in 

the course of that night? 
.4. Finding there was a likelihood of a commotionj I went 

thither towards one in the morning. 
Q. You were aware then, that the people had arisen? 
A. I learned it, from hearing the tocsin. 
Q. Did you see the Swiss and National Guards, who 

passed the night on the terrace ? 
A. I was at the window, but saw neither. 
Q. Was the king in his apartment, when you went 

thither? 
A. There were a great number of persons in the room, 

but not the king. 
Q. Did you know of the mayor of Paris being at the 

Thuilleries ? 
A, I heard he was there, 

Q. At what hour did the king go to the National As- 
sembly? 
A. Seven. 
Q. Did he not, before he went, review the troops ? Do 

you know the oath he made them swear ? 
Jl. I never heard of any oath. 
Q. Have you any knowledge of cannon being mounted, 

and pointed in the apartments ? 
Jl, No. 
Q. Have you ever seen Messrs. Mandat and d'Affry in 

the chateau? 
^. No. 
Q.. Do you know the secret doors of the Thuilleries ? 



QHAPTER XXYIT.. 379 

A. I know of no such doors. 

Q. Have you not, since you have been in the Temple, 

received and written letters, which you sought to send 

away secretly? 
A. I have never received or written any letters, except- 
ing such as have been delivered to the municipal 

officer. 
Q. Do you know any thing of an article of furniture, 

which is making for Madame Elizabeth? 
A, No. 
Q. Have you not recently received some devotional 

books? 
^. No. 

Q. What are the books which you have at the Temple? 
Ji. I have none. 

Q. Do you know any thing of a barred staircase ? 
^. No. 
Q. What general officers did you see at the Thuilleries, 

on the night of the ninth and tenth ? 
A. I saw no general officers, I only saw M. Rcederer. 

For thirteen hours was her highness, with her female 
companions in misfortune, exposed to these absurd forms, 
and to the gaze of insulting and malignant curiosity. At 
length, about the middle of the day, they were told, that 
it was decreed, that they should be detained till further 
orders, leaving them the choice of prisons, between that 
of la Force and of la Salpetriere. 

Her highness immediately decided on the former. It 
was at first determined, that she should be separated 
from Madame de Tourzel, but humanity so far prevailed, 
as to permit the consolation of her society, with that of 
others of her friends and fellow-suiferers, and for a mo- 
ment the princess enjoyed the only comfort left to her, 
that of exchanging sympathy with her partners in afflie- 



;380 CHArTER XXVII. 

tion. But the cell to which she was doomed proved her 
last habitation upon earth. 

On the first of September the Marseillois began their 
murderous operations. Three hundred persons in two 
days massacred upwards of a thousand defenceless pri- 
soners; confined under the pretext of mal-practices 
against the state, or rather devotedness to the royal 
cause. The spirit which produced the massacres of the 
prisons at Paris, extended them through the principal 
towns and cities all over France. 

Even the universal interest felt for the Princess Lam- 
balle was of no avail against this phrenzy. I remember 
once (as if it were from a presentiment of what was to 
occur) the king observing to her, " I never knew any 
but fools and sycophants, who could keep themselves 
clear from the lash of public censure : how is it then that 
you, my dear princess, who are neither, contrive to steer 
your bark on this dangerous coast, without running 
against the rocks, on which so many good vessels like 
your own have been dashed to pieces ?" " Oh, sire," 
replied her highness, " my time is not yet come — I am 
not dead yet !'^ Too soon, and too horribly her hour 
did come ! 

The butchery of the prisons was now commenced. 
The Duke de Penthievre set every engine in operation, 
to save his beloved daughter-in-law. He sent for Man- 
uel, who was then Procureur of Paris. The duke de- 
clared, that half his fortune should be Manuel's, if he 
could but save the Princess Lamballe, and the ladies who 
were in the same prison with her, from the general mas- 
sacre. Manuel promised the duke that he would in- 
stantly set about removing them all from the reach of the 
blood-hunters. Pie began with those whose removal was 
least likely to attract attention, leaving the Princes Lam- 
bajle, from motive of policy, to the last» 



CIUPTER xxvir. 381 

Meanwhile, other messengers had been despatched to 
different quarters, for fear of faihire with Manuel. It 
was discovered by one of these, that the atrocious tribu- 
nal,* who sat in mock judgment upon the tenants of 
these gloomy abodes, after satiating themselves with 
every studied insult they could devise, were to pro- 
nounce the word "libre !" It was naturally presumed, 
that the predestined victims, on hearing this tempting 
sound, and seeing the doors at the same moment set 
open by the clerks of the infamous court, would dart 
off in exultation, and, fancying themselves liberated, 
rush upon the knives of the barbarians, who were out- 
side, in waiting for their blood ! Hundreds were thus 
slaughtered. 

To save the princess from such a sacrifice, it was 
projected to prevent her from appearing before the tri- 
bunal, and a belief was encouraged, that means would be 
devised to elude the necessity. The person who inter- 
ested himself for her safety contrived to convey a letter 
containing these words : " Let what will happen, for 
Ood's sake, do not quit your cell. You will be spared. 
Adieu," 

Manuel however, who knew not of this cross arrange- 
ment, was better informed than its projector. He was 
aware it would be impossible for her highness to escape 
from appearing before the tribunal. He had already re- 
moved her companions. The Princess Tarente, the 
Marchioness Tourzel, her daughter, and others, were in 
safety. But when, true to his promise, he went to the 
Princess Lamballe, she would not be prevailed upon to 
quit her cell. There was no time to parley. The letter 
prevailed, and her fate was inevitable. 

The massacre had begun at day-break. The fiends 

■^ Thibaiulcan. Hebert, Simonicr, &r.. 



382 CHAPTER XXYII, .il^ip 

had been some hours busy in the work of death. The 
piercing shrieks of the dying victims brought the prin- 
cess and her remaining companion upon their knees, in 
fervent prayer for the souls of the departed. The mes- 
sengers of the tribunal now appeared. The princess was 
compelled to attend the summons. She went, accompa- 
nied by her faithful female attendant. 

A glance at the seas of blood, of which she caught a 
glimpse upon her way to the court, had nearly shocked 
her even to sudden death. Would it had! — She stag- 
gered, but was sustained by her companion. Her cou- 
rage triumphed. She appeared before the gore-stained 
tribunes. 

After some questions of mere form, her highness was 
commanded to swear, to be faithful to the new order 
of government, and to hate the king, the queen, and 
royalty. 

"To the first," replied her highness, *'l willingly 
submit. To the second, how can I accede? There is 
nothing of which I can accuse the royal family. To 
hate them is against my nature. They are my sove- 
reigns. They are my friends and relations. I have 
served them for many years, and never have I found rea- 
son for the slightest complaint.'' 

The princess could no longer articulate. She fell into 
the arms of her attendant. The fatal signal was pro- 
nounced. She recovered, and, crossing the court of the 
prison, which was bathed with the blood of mutilated 
victims, involuntarily exclaimed, "Gracious Heaven J 
What a sight is this !" and fell into a fit. 

Nearest to her in the mob stood a mulatto, whom she 
had caused to be baptized, educated, and maintained; 
but whom, from ill conduct, she had latterly excluded 
from her presence. This miscreant struck at her with 
his halbert. The blow removed her cap. Her luxuriant 



CHAPTER XXVII. S83 

hair (as if to hide her angelic beauty from the sight of 
the murderers, pressing tiger-like around to pollute that 
form, the virtues of which equalled its physical perfec- 
tion,) her luxuriant hair fell around and veiled her a 
moment from view.* An individual, to whom I was 
nearly allied, seeing the miscreants somewhat staggered, 
sprang forward to the rescue ; but the mulatto wounded 
him.-j- The princess was lost to all feeling, from the mo- 
ment the monster first struck at her. But the demons 
would not quit their prey. She expired gashed with 
wounds. 

Scarcely was the breath out of her body, when the 
murderers cut off her head.:!: One party of them fixed 

* This circumstance was related to me by a person, who knew 
the princess from her childhood, long before she left Turin. 

t This person followed her remains for a considerable distance, 
but the loss of blood prevented him from seeing the horrors whiciv 
ensued. He left France very soon after, and died at Naples. 
He himself related these particulars, to Sir William Hamilton, 
from whom I had them in 1793. 

X It may not be uninteresting to my readers to learn the peculiar 
circumstances under which I became possessed of the details, 
Avhich are here recorded. 

When I was residing in Paris, in 1 803, 1 felt a vacuum, I thought 
something seemed wanting or wrong, whenever I let a day pass 
without paying my devotions to the Cemetery de la Madeleine, 
which contained the remains of some of the royal martyrs. 

One day, when I was in this sacred retreat, I was much surpris- 
ed at being accosted by two men. They asked me what I was 
doing there. 

I at first looked at them in silence, but with that contemptuous 
sternness, which spoke more plainly than any language could utter. 
They repeated their question in a tone of more authority. 

It was just at the time when Bonaparte had compelled the Itali- 
ans to offer him the Consulship of Italy. 

I answered, that I did not know what riglit they had to inter- 
rupt the living, who was only seeking a quiet retreat among the 
dead. 



384 CHAPTER XXVIL 

itj like that of the vilest traitor, on an immense pok; 
and bore it in triumph all over Paris; while another di- 

«' Yes," said they, " but you are seeking curiously among the 
dead, which induces us to think all is not as it should be. Who 
are you ? What is your business in Paris ? " 

I told them, that I wished to know, before I satisfied their imper- 
tinent curiosity, what right they had thus to interrogate me. 

" The right of fathoming suspicious appearances," replied they. 
*« We have observed you, madam, often and often. You always 
come hither alone. Your head and face are invariably concealed." 
" For that very reason you should not have disturbed my priva- 
cy. Being alone, what can you fear from me ? My being veiled is 
to avoid impertinent curiosity, like that which you now exercise." 
Seeing that I was not to be intimidated, they became more tract- 
able, and said, " W'e do not come here without orders. We have 
long watched your motions. You always stand over a particular 
grave. What do you seek there ! Time has destroyed every ves- 
tige : why, when she was put into the ground, God rest her pooj; 
soul ! there was a hundred weight of lime cast upon her body, that 
it might the more rapidly consume itself." 

" Whose body do you mean ?" exclained I. "• Whose ?" answer^ 
ed one of the men, — ^^ Why, do you think me so ignorant as not 
to know ?" " Ah," continued, he, putting a handkerchief to his 
face to dry the tears that were falling — " Ah, I knew that unfor- 
tunate queen! and I knew also her unfortunate friend"— . 
" The Princess Lamballe ?" cried L 
" To be sure I did 1" 

" Can you give me any information, by which I may be enabled 
to pay that deplored victim the same tribute of devotion, which I 
have offered to this ?" 

"Ah! madam!" answered the man, " if I had been able to have 
found her precious body, I should not now be a police officer. The 
Duke de Penthievre offered any money for it, if it could have been 
found and brought to the curate of the parish, or his chaplain, for 
burial ; but it was impossible to ascertain it from the number of 
victims that were heaped confusedly one upon another. Manuel, 
rough as he was, not having succeeded in saving her alive, though 
the duke had paid him munificently to do so, exerted all his autho- 
rity to bring the corpse to burial ; and having by his anxiety for 
its recovery, nearly committed himself to the bloody tiihunal of 



CHAPTER XS.VII. 385 

vision of the outrageous cannibals were occupied in tear- 
ing her clothes piece-meal^ from her mangled corpse. 

his companious, he was obliged to give up the pursuit. If the mur- 
derers had not stripped her of all her clothes, we should liave been 
able to have identified the body from some part of her linen, but 
not a rag was left by which she could be distinguished from her 
fellow martyrs." 

I was chilled with hon-or at this description, when one of the 
men said, " Madam, I was one of the late king's game-keepers, 
and afterwards employed by that unfortunate queen in the grounds 
of Trianon. Often, very often, have I had the honour of present- 
ing her majesty and the Princess of Lamballe with bunches of roses 
and myi'tlel" 

" Ah!" interrupted the other, the tears standing in his eyes, — 
" God rest their poor souls I There are no such women now in 
France!" — 

*' Do you indeed think so ?" 

" Yes, yes," said his companion, " you may believe him, ma- 
dam. He also was an old servant of the royal family. 

While I was thus interestingly engaged with these two men, 
who had completely overcome my first unfavourable impression, 
the Duke Serbelloni's carriage drew up, and set that nobleman 
down at the door of the church. 

I should explain, that the duke was a particular friend. I had 
been indebted to the unfortunate princess for my introduction to 
his grace at Milan, on my first being commissioned to go to Italy. 
To him also I owe the first knowledge of my present husband, to 
whose family he recommended me, when I visited Venice, on the 
way to Naples, where I had been thrown into a dangerous illness 
by the fatal intelligence of her highness's murder. But for this 
event, by which all my future prospects were annihilated, I should 
never have changed my condition without her consent, though I 
have never known ought but happiness in the union for which I 
asked no sanction but my own. 

But to quit this digression — The duke, whom I had not long left 
with my husband and some others at my lodging in the Hotel Bos- 
ton, Rue Vivienne, seemed surprised to find me at such a place, 
and especially in such company. 

" Cosa mai fatte qui ?" '^ What are you doing here ?' cried he 
in Italian. 



i386 CHAPTER XXVII. 

The beauty of tliat Ibrni, though headless, mutilated, 
and reeking with the hot blood of their foul crimes,- — 
how shall I describe it?— excited that atrocious excess of 
lust, which impelled these hordes of assassins to satiate 
their demoniac passions upon the remains of this virtuous 
angel ! 

Is there a deed in the history of the most savage na- 
tions, which bears a parallel in brutality? 

This incredible crime being perpetrated, the wretch- 
es fastened ropes round the body, arms, and legs, and 
dragged it naked through the streets of Paris, till no 
vestige remained by which it could be distinguished as 
belonging to the human species; and then left it among 
the hundreds of innocent victims of that awful day, who 
were heaped up to putrify in one confused and disgust- 
ing mass. 

The head was reserved for other purposes of cruelty 

I told him, it was one of my daily haunts ; when the two men^ 
"who knew the duke, asked, *^' Sir, will you be answerable for this 
lady^s appearance to-morrow at the office of the police ?" 

The duke answered in the affirmative ; and we left the place 
and the men, with whom I should have been happy to have had a 
longer conversation. 

This wish was gratified in a few days. Fouche being satisfied 
with the Duke Serbelloni's explanation of my church-yard adven- 
ture, sent these very men back to me, with a note, signifying that 
I had no occasion to appear at his office 5 but at the same time ad= 
vising me to abstain from visiting la Madeleine ; an advice whichj 
malgrS moi, I attended to. 

From this second interview with the men, I gleaned the above 
details of horror. I fainted during the shocking narrative. I 
could not listen to learn how this most infamous, most atrocious 
scene ended $ and it has too deeply affected me ever since to al- 
low of my making any further inquiries, as to where the insulted 
form of this transcendent loveliness and purity had been deposit-- 
ed. But I have every reason to believe, that no inquiries could 
liate bsen of the least avail 



OHAl'TER XXVIT, 387 

and horror. It was first borne to the Temple, beneath 
the vviudovvs of the royal prisoners. The wretches who 
were hired daily to insult them in their dens of misery, 
by proclaiming all the horrors vomited from the na- 
tional Vesuvius, were Qom missioned to redouble their 
howls of what had befallen the Princess Lamballe.* 
The queen sprang up at the name of her friend. She 
heard subjoined to it, ^' la voila en triomphe'* and then 
came shouts and laughter. She looked out. At a dis- 
tance she perceived something like a bacchanalian pro- 
cession, and thought, as she hoped, that the princess was 
coming to her in triumpii from her prison ; and her heart 
rejoiced in the anticipation of once more being blest with 
her society. But the king, who had seen and heard 
more distinctly from his apartment, flew to that of the 
queen. That the horrid object might not escape obser- 
vation, the monsters had mounted upon each other's 

* These horrid circumstances I had from the Chevalier Clery, 
wl» was the only attendant allowed to assist Louis XVI. and his 
unhappy family, during their last captivity j but who was banish- 
ed from the Temple as soon as his royal master was beheaded, 
and never permitted to return. Clery told me all this when I 
met him at Pyrmont, in Germany. He was then in attendance 
upon the late Counte^^s de Lisle, wife of Louis XVIIL at whose 
musical parties I had often the honour of assisting, when on a 
visit to the beautiful Dutchess de Guiche. On returning to Paris 
from Germany, on my way back into Italy, I met the wife of 
Clery, and her friend M. Beaumond, both old friends of mine, 
vho confirmed Clery's statement, and assured me they were all 
for two years in hourly expectation of being sent to tlie Place 
de Greve, for execution. The death of Robespierre saved their 
lives. 

Madame Clery taught Marie Antoinette to play upon the harp. 
Madame Beaumond was a natural daughter of Louis XV. I had 
often occasion to be in their agreeable society ; and, as might be 
expected, their minds were stored with the most authentic anec- 
dotes and information upon the topics of the day. 



388 CHAPTER XXVII. 

shoulders, so as to lift the bleeding head quite up to the 
prison bars. The king came just in time to snatch her 
majesty from the spot, and thus she was prevented from 
seeing it. He took her up in his arms, and carried hep 
to a distant part of the Temple; but the mob pursued 
her in her retreat, and howled the fatal truth even at 
her very door, adding, that her head would be the next 
the nation would require. Her majesty fell into violent 
hysterics. The butchers of human flesh continued in 
the interior of the Temple, parading the triumph of 
their assassination, until the shrieks of the Princess Eli- 
zabeth, at the state in which she saw the queen, and se- 
rious fears for the safety of the royal prisoners, aroused 
the commandant to treble the National Guard, and chase 
the barbarians to the outside, where they remained for 
hours. 

The head was then taken through the streets. By a 
singular circumstance it became the cause of immediate 
death to one who had been in my employ. The strange 
event happened as follows :• — 

My English man-servant, and the young girl who had 
accompanied me from France to Italy, were both takent 
very ill, from the violent heat we had suffered, from tra- 
velling night and day in the month of August, 1792. 
I was therefore obliged to send them both back for the 
benefit of their native air. They reached Paris on the 
very day of the massacre. The first thing the girl saw, 
on alighting from the diligence, was the head of the well- 
known benefactress of her mistress. The fellow who was 
bearing it thrust it so near their faces, that the long hair 
of the victim entangled itself on the button of my man-ser= 
vant's coatj who took a knife and cut the locks, to disen- 
tangle himself from the head. On his return to Italy he 
gave me the hair which he thus cut off, I have kept it 
by me ever since. The poor girl, at sight of the horriiJ 



CHAPTER XXVII# 389 

spectacle, gave bat a shriek, and died in six hours after 
she reached the inn! 

The horrid spectacle was next exhibited within the 
Palais Royal. Madame Buffons, the avowed mistress of 
its royal occupier, was dining with him. They both 
started up, and ran to the window. On discovering the 
cause of the tumult, Madame BufFons fainted. The 
Duke of Orleans, it is said, remarked, " Oh, it is Lam- 
balle's head — I know it by the long hair." Madame 
BufFons reviving, exclaimed, ^^ Heaven knows how soon 
mine .may be struck oflP, and paraded in the same man- 
ner ! Send it out of sight. Send it out of the palace, 
or I shall expire!" 

What further became of these precious remains has 
never transpired. The probability is, that, amid the 
sanguinary cannibal drunkenness, they were cast among 
the remains of the other victims: for though immense 
sums were offered, and repeated efforts made, to regain 
them, no traces ever could be discovered. 

Ah me ! What have I lost in this ill-starred princess ! 
More, more, than even a mother ! Oh, that I could but 
strew flowers over her grave ! But even this little con- 
solation has been rendered impossible.* 

Words cannot express what a void I felt, on returning 
some years after these horrible calamities to Paris, to 
find, that no trace of the angelic form of my beloved 
benefactress had been suffered to remain ; that no clue 



* It was reported, that Napoleon, when he became Emperor of 
France, respecting the virtues of this illustrious sufferer, ordered, 
in commemoration of this event, the funeral rites to be performed 
in the parish where she had been butchered, on the 3rd day of 
every September. Her birth-day would have been on the 8th of 
the same month. It was certainly doing honour to himself, to 
cause so just a tribute to be paid to the memory of one, who had 
been the pride and blessing of the country he was called to govern. 



390 CHAPTER XXVII. 

had ever been discovered to the sod, which enwraps her 
mutilated body ; that there was not even a tomb-stone 
to point out the resting place of her mangled frame. 
There would have been a happiness even in communing 
with her spirit over her burial place. Nothing is more 
calculated to discipline the human heart, than the mid- 
night haunts of the church-yard. What a school for 
royalty and earthly grandeur! Every sense is there 
tempered and intellectualized. Love, friendship, pater- 
nal and filial sympathies, are all awakened into rational 
activity, by the reflections excited by such a scene. 
Grief on the green sod knows no deception. How often 
have I left the sons of mirth and gaiety paying libations 
to Bacchus, to pass an hour at the grave of Maria An- 
toinette, lamenting I could not enjoy the same consola- 
tion, and unburthen the anguish of my soul in solemn 
prayer, over her martyred friend. But she is above the 
reach of mortals. She is in Heaven ; she dwells where 
virtues like those of a Lamballe can alone find refuge 
against earthly venom. I well know I shall be harshly 
dealt with for my weakness, in thus pining after the re- 
mains of those who exist no longer ; and I anticipate the 
lash of the literary rod. Yet I cannot withhold the tears 
of grateful recollection. Often have they lifted a load of 
oppression from my bosom : the scalding drops which 
parched my cheeks, as they fell tributary to her cruel 
fate, have given me as much relief as those which; at 
other times, have dimmed my eyes with laughter at her 
repartees. 

But away, busy, intruding memory ! Lead me n& 
further into the fields of melancholy and despair. Long 
have I trodden on the icy, chilling paths of the neglect- 
ed tomb—- the only remaining solace to my bereavements. 
Let me v/ithdraw from these dejecting solitudes,--if not 
for my own sake^ at least for that of others I 



( 391 ) 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 



The murder of the Princess Lamballe only preparatory to other 

victims. — Death of the king. — His character. — Santerre. > 

Death of the queen. — Her friendships and character Death of 

the Princess Elizabeth. — Duke of Orleans. — His death. The 

dauphin. — Anecdote of the Dutchess d'Angouleme.— Curious 
particulars of Robespierre, David, and Carriere. — Concluding 
observation. 



It now only remains for me to complete ray record by 
a few facts and observations relating to the illustrious vic- 
tims, who a short time survived the Princess Lamballe. 
I shall add to this painful narrative some details, which 
have been mentioned to me concerning their remorseless 
persecutors, who were not long left unpursued by just 
and awful retribution. Having done this, I shall dismiss 
the subject. 

The execrable and sacrilegious modern French Pharir 
sees, who butchered, on the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd of Sep- 
tember 1792, all the prisoners at Paris, by these massa- 
cres only gave the signal for the more diabolical 
machinations, which led to the destruction of the still 
more sacred victims of the 21st of January, and the 16th 
of October, 1793, and the myriads who followed. 

The king himself never had a doubt with regard to 
his ultimate fate. His only wish was to make it the 
means of emancipation for the queen and royal family. 
It was his intention to have appealed to the National As- 
sembly upon the subject;, after his trial. Such also was 



392 CHAl'TER XXVIII, 

the particular wish of his saint-like sister, the Princess 
Elizabeth, who imagined, that an appeal under such cir- 
cumstances could not be resisted. But the queen strong- 
ly opposed the measure, and his majesty said he should 
be loath, in the last moments of his painful existence, in 
any thing, to thwart one whom he loved so tenderly. 

He had long accustomed himself, when he spoke of 
the queen, and royal infants, in deference to the temper 
of the times, only to say, " my wife and children." 
They, as he told Clery, formed a tie, and the only one 
remaining, which still bound him to earth ; their last 
embraces, he said, went so to his aching heart, that he 
could even yet feel their little hands clinging about him, 
and see their streaming eyes, and hear their agonized and 
broken voices. The day previous to the fatal catastro- 
phe, when permitted for the last time to see his family^ 
the Princess Elizabeth whispered him, not for herself, 
but for the queen and his helpless innocents, to remember 
his intentions. He said he should not feel himself happy, 
if, in his last hour, he did not give them a proof of his 
paternal affection, in obtaining an assurance, that the 
sacrifice of his life should be the guarantee of theirSo 
So intent was his mind upon this purpose, said Clery to 
me, that when his assassins came to take him to the 
slaughtering place, he said ^^ I hope my death will ap- 
pease the nation ; and that my innocent family, who have 
suffered on my account, will now be released." 

The ruffians answered, " The nation, always magnan= 
imous, only seeks to punish the guilty ; you may be as- 
sured your family will be respected." Events have pro- 
ved how well they kept their word. 

It was to fulfil the intention of recommending his fa- 
mily to the people with his dying breath, that he 
commenced the address upon the scaffold^ when San- 



CHAPTER XXVIII. ,jy^ 

terre'^ ordered the drums to drown bis last accents, and 
the axe to fall ! 

The Princess Elizabeth, and perhaps others of the 
royal prisoners, hoped he would have been reprieved, 
till Herbert, that real Pere du chene, with a smile upon 
his countenance, came triumphantly to announce to the 
disconsolate family, that Louis was no more! — 

Perhaps there never was a king more misrepresented 
and less understood, especially by the immediate age in 
which he lived, than Louis XVL He was the victim of 

* In the year 1803, the high roads from Italy and Germany to 
France were in such a horrid state, that some parts of the French 
territory were absolutely impassable. The toll-keepers had most 
of them fled from their gates, having been repeatedly beaten by 
the carters, wagonners, post-boys, and diligence drivers, for 
making them pay, though the roads were so bad that vehicles 
were upset, limbs broken, carriages crashed, and lives lost. Hav- 
ing experienced some very rough travelling, and not wishing to 
ruin a very handsome carriage, we determined to leave it to be 
conducted slowly by our servants, and took our seats in one of the 
diligencies to Rheims. We had only travelled a few paces when 
the diligence stopped, and took up an outside passenger. A very 
heavy storm came on, and the master of the diligence opened the 
carriage door to let the outside passenger get in. Two gentle- 
men, who were seated between us, the moment they saw the 
stranger's face, started, drew their pistols, jumped out, called the 
coachman, and swore the passenger should not enter, and that if 
he even attempted again to take his place in the same vehicle, 
they would blow out his brains. When the fellow found all re- 
sistance vain, he contented himself, after a good drubbing, to be 
left behind, and walked to his journey's end. The gentlemen 
having resumed their places in the carriage, we naturally inquired 
into the cause of all this bustle. We then learned, that the man 
who had been expelled from the coach was the wretch Santerre, 
who commanded the troops at Paris on the occasion above-mention- 
ed ; and who so cruelly ordered the drums to beat, to hasten the 
execution and prevent his dying king's last words from being 
heard, 

3D 



394 CHAPTER XXVIII„ 

natural timidity, increased by the horror of bloodshed, 
which the exigencies of the times rendered indispensable 
to his safety. He appeared weak in intellect, when he 
was only so from circumstances. An overwrought anxie- 
ty to be just, made him hesitate about the mode of over° 
coming the abuses, until its procrastination had destroyed 
the object of his wishes. He had courage sufficient, as 
well as decision, where others were not menaced and the 
danger confined to himself; but where his family or his 
people were involved, he was utterly unfit to give direc- 
tion. The want of self-sufficiency in his own faculties 
has been his, and his throne's ruin. He consulted those^. 
who caused him to swerve from the path his own better 
reason had dictated, and in seeking the best course^ he 
often chose the worst. 

The same fatal timiditity, which pervaded his charac° 
ter, extended to his manners. From being merely awk- 
ward, he at last became uncouth ; but from the natural 
goodness of his heart, the nearest to him soon lost sight 
of his ungentleness, from the rectitude of his intentions., 
and, to parody the poet; saw his deportment in his 
feelings. 

Previous to the revolution, Louis XVL was generally 
considered gentle and aflfable, though never polished. But 
the numberless outrages, suffered by his queen, his fami- 
ly, his friends, and himself, especially towards the close 
of his career, soured him to an air of rudeness, utterly 
foreign to his nature and to his intention. 

It must not be forgotten, that he lived in a time of un= 
precedented difficulty. He was a lamb governing tigers., 
So far as his own personal bearing is concerned, who is 
there among his predecessors, that, replaced upon the 
throne, would have resisted the vicissitudes brought 
about by internal discord, rebellion, and riot, like him- 
self? What said he^ when one of the heterogeneouS| 



CHAPTER XXYIIL 395 

plebeian, revolutionary assemblies not only insulted lum, 
but added to the insult a laugh? — " If you think you 
can govern better ; I am ready to resign/' was the mild, 
but firm reply of Louis. How glorious would have been 
the triumph for the most civilized nation in the centre of 
Europe, had the insulter taken him at his word. When 
the experimentalists did attempt to govern, we all know, 
and have too severely felt, the consequences. Yet this 
unfortunate monarch has been represented to the world 
as imbecile, and taxed with wanting character, firmness, 
and fortitude, because he has been vanquished! The 
despot conqueror has been vanquished since! Let the 
indulgent father and affectionate husband put his hand 
upon his heart and say, were he now to choose a monarch 
between the two, whether he would not feel himself safer 
and happier, under a king like Louis ? 

His acquirements were considerable. His memory* 
was remarkably retentive and well stored ; — a quality, I 
should infer from all I have observed, common to most 
sovereigns. By the multiplicity of persons they are in 
the habit of seeing, and the vast variety of objects con- 

* The memories of kings are, like those of players, always in 
action and vigorous, from hard exercise. This faculty in both 
cases may be independent of the higher powers of intellect. Ac- 
tors, though they know not the difference between topography and 
geography, and cannot tell whether Spain be in Europe or Africa, 
yet have memories so flexible, that they can study a part from 
morning to night. This makes me fancy the power of retention 
quite mechanical. The application of memory must of course 
depend on genius and education ; to further prove this, my hum- 
ble opinion, in the year 1790 I had the honour to be in company 
with the Prince Maximilian, at Paris, then in the French service ; 
when I came to Munich in the year 1819, His Majesty, then king 
of Bavaria, did me the honour to recollect even a part of the 
conversation, as well as reijiember my person. 



396 CHAPTER XXVIII. 

tinualiy passing through their minds, this faculty is kept 
ill perpetual exercise. 

But the circumstance which probably injured Louis 
XVI. more than any other was his familiarity with the 
locksmith Gamin. Innocent as was the motive whence 
it arose, this low connexion lessened him more with the 
whole nation, than if he had been the most vicious of 
princes. How careful sovereigns ought to he, with re- 
spect to the attentions they bestow on men in humble 
life; especially those whose principles may have been de- 
moralized by the meanness of the associations consequent 
upon their occupation, and whose low origin may have 
denied them opportunities of intellectual cultivation. 

This observation may even be extended to the liberal 
arts» It does not follow because a monarch is fond of 
these, that he should so far forget himself as to make 
their professors his boon companions. He loses gronnd 
whenever he places his inferiors on a level with himselfc 
Men are estimated from the deference they pay to their 
own stations in society. The great Frederick of Prus- 
sia used to say, " I must show myself a king, because 
my trade is royalty." * 

•' Though Frederick was so passionately fond of music an<l 
distinguished performers, yet he was very particular as to whom 
he admitted to his private concerts, and even those who obtained 
the honour were never received upon terms of personal familiari- 
ty. The highest celebrity was the only passport even to an in- 
troduction. From this he refused to allow Mademoiselle Sche- 
inellingj afterwards the famous Madame Mara, to become a 
candidate, until one of her patrons, piqued at the denial, caused 
her to sing to the wind-instruments in the king's antichamber. 
Frederick, much surprised at her voice and execution, asked some 
one of the band if she understood music, — Being answered in the 
affirmative, he ordered her to be brought into the concert room, 
There he set before her one of his flute concertos, which he knew 



CHAPTER XXVIII, 397 

It was only in destitution and anguish that the real 
character of Louis developed itself. He was firm and 
patient, utterly regardlesss of himself, but wrung, to the 
heart for others, not even excepting his deluded murde- 
rers. Nothing could swerve him from his trust in hea- 
ven, and he left a glorious example of how far religion 
can triumph over every calamity and every insult this 
world has power to inflict.* 



she had never seen before. She sung it off hand. He instantly 
engaged her j and she became afterwards that great Mara, whom 
so many have imitated, but scarcely any have equalled, and cer- 
tainly none have surpassed. 

* I would not wish to be understood as under-rating the claims 
of genius, or as wishing to dissuade any one from conferring the 
high rewards to which it has a right to aspire. I am only speak- 
ing of state policy. Talents can never be too much appreciated 
and patronized. When a proper distinction is observed between 
the artist and his protector, the patronage confers honour on the 
one, and advantages on the other ; and great men of rank and 
birth seldom lavish such attentions, without calculating upon an 
equivalent, either in amusement or in public approbation : but 
how paltry is the compliment of a dinner, a supper, or wine, for 
the delight received from superior ability ! Therefore let me ra- 
ther denounce than encourage reserve in the rewards of merit. 
Any sovereign can draw his sword over the head of an individual 
and say, "Rise, Cousin Prince: Cousin Duke! Lord! Knight!" 
—but he cannot with equal facility say, "Rise, Cousin Homer! 
Cousin Virgil ! Cousin Horace!"— He would be cozened in the 
attempt. God only can impart those gifts. If the great Creator 
has thought proper, in his divine wisdom, to distinguish a small 
class of men from the great mass of speaking animals, surely 
mortals cannot dispense with admiring those whom providence 
has so eminently marked out for their models. But it seldom 
happens that political and literary distinctions can be reconciled, 
and thence the inexpediency of potentates making companions and 
confidants of those whom tl^ey admire. Besides, it is rare that the 
highest desert attains the highest notice. Too often does merit in 
an humble garb feel the bleak winter in a garret,, while the super- 



398 CHAPTEE XXVIIIo 

There was a national guard, who, at the time of the 
imprisoraent of the royal family, was looked upon as the 
most violent of jacobins and the sworn enemy of royalty. 
On that account the sanguinary agents of the self-created 
Assembly employed him to frequent the temple. His 
special commission was to stimulate the king and royal 
family by every possible argument to self-destruction. 

But this man was a friend in disguise. He undertook 
the hateful office merely to render every service in his 
power, and convey regular information of the plots of 
the Assembly, against those whom he was deputed to 
persecute^ The better to deceive his companions, he 
would read aloud to the royal family all the debates of 
the regicides; which those who were with him encoura- 
ged, believing it meant to torture and insult, when the 
real motive was to prepare them to meet every accusa= 
tion, by communicating to them each charge as it occur- 
red. So thoroughly were the Assembly deceived, that 
the friendly guard was allowed free access to the apart- 
ments, in order to facilitate, as was imagined, his wish to 
agonize and annoy. By this means, he was enabled to 
caution the illustrious prisoners never to betray any emo= 
tion at what he read, and to rely upon his doing his best 
to soften the rigour of their fate. 

The individual of whom I speak communicated these 
circumstances to me himself. He declared also, that the 
Duke of Orleans came frequently to the Temple, during 
the imprisonment of Louis XVL but always in disguise; 
and never till within a few days after the murder of the 
poor king, did he disclose himself. On that occasion he 
had bribed the men, who were accustomed to light the 
fires, to admit him in their stead], to the apartment of 

ficial impostor, for a song and a laugh, is gorgeously fed in the 
sunshine of royal favour, especially if of foreign import 



CHAPTER XXVIIT. 399 

the Princess Elizabeth. He found her on her knees, in 
fervent prayer for the departed soul of her beloved 
brother. He performed this ojQSice, totally unperceived 
by this predestined victim ; but his courage was subdued 
by her piety. He dared not extend the stratagem to 
the apartment of the qu6en. On leaving the angelic 
princess, he was so overcome by remorse, that he re- 
quested my informant to give him a glass of water, say- 
ing, "that woman has unmanned me." It was by this 
circumstance he was discovered. 

The queen was immediately apprized by the good man 
of the occurrence. 

^^ Gracious God!" exclaimed her majesty, ^^I thought 
once or twice, that I had seen him at our miserable din- 
ner hours, occupied with the other jailers, at the outside 
door." I even mentioned the circumstance to Eliza- 
beth, and she replied, " I also have observed a man re- 
sembling Orleans, but it cannot be him, for the man I no- 
ticed had a wooden leg." 

^' That was the very disguise he was discovered in this 
morning, when preparing, or pretending to prepare the 
fire in the Princess Elizabeth's apartment,'' replied the 
national guard. 

^^ Merciful Heaven!" said the queen, "is he not yet 
satisfied? — Must he even satiate his barbarous brutality, 
with being an eye-witness of the horrid state into which 
he has thrown us? Save me," continued her majesty, 
<^'.0h save me, from contaminating my feeble sight, which 
is almost exhausted, nearly parched up for the loss of my 
dear husband, by looking on him! — Oh, death! come, 
come and release me from such a sight!" 

" Luckily," observed the guard to me, '• it was the 
hour of the general jail dinner, and we were alone; 
otherwise I should infallibly have been discovered, as my 
tears fell faster than those of the queen, for really hei*'s 



400 CHAPTER XXVIII, 

seemed to be nearly exhausted. However/^ pursued 
he, " that Orleans did see the queen, and that the queeE 
saw him, I am very sure. From what passed between 
them in the month of July 1793, she was hurried off 
from the Temple to the common prison, to take her tri- 
al.'' This circumstance combined with other motives, to 
make the Assembly hasten the duke's trial soon after^ 
who had in the meantime been sent with his young son 
to Marseilles, there being no doubt that he wished to 
rescue the queen, so as to have her in his own power. 

On the 16th of October, her majesty was beheadedo 
Her death was consistent with her life. She met her 
fate like a Christian, but still like a queen. 

Perhaps, had Maria Antoinette, been uncontrolled in 
the exercise of her judgment, she would have shown a 
spirit in emergency better adapted to wrestle with the 
times, than had been discovered by his majesty. Certain 
it is, she was generally esteemed the most proper to be 
consulted of the two. From the imperfect idea which 
many of the persons in office entertained of the king's 
capacity, few of them ever made any communication of 
importance, but to the queen. Her majesty never kept 
a single circumstance from her husband's knowledge, and 
scarcely decided on the smallest trifle without his con- 
sent ; but so thorough was his confidence in the correct^ 
ness of her judgment, that he seldom, if ever, opposed 
her decisions. The Princess Lamballe used to say^, 
^^ Though Maria Antoinette is not a woman of great, or 
uncommon talents, yet her long practical knowledge gave 
her an insight into matters of moment, which she turned 
to advantage with so much coolness and address amid 
difficulties, that I am convinced she only wanted free 
scope to have shone in the history of princes as a great 
queen» Her natural tendencies were perfectly domestic. 
Had she been kept in couBtenance by the manners of the 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 401 

times, or favoured earlier by circumstances, she would 
have sought her only pleasures in the family circle, and, 
far from court intrigue, have become the model of her 
sex and age." 

It is by no means to be wondered at, that, in her 
peculiar situation, surrounded by a thoughtless and dis- 
sipated court, long denied the natural ties so necessary 
to such a heart, in the hey-day of youth and beauty, and 
possessing an animated and lively spirit, she should have 
given way, in the earlier part of her career, to gaiety, 
and been pleased with a round of amusements. The 
sincere friendship which she afterwards formed for the 
Duchess Polignac, encouraged this prediliction. The 
plot to destroy her, had already been formed, and her 
enemies were too sharp-sighted and adroit not to profit 
and take advantage of the opportunities afforded by this 
weakness. The miscreants had murdered her character, 
long, long before they assailed her person. 

The charge against her of extravagance, has been al- 
ready refuted. Her private palace was furnished from 
the state lumber rooms, and what was purchased, paid 
for out of her savings. As for her favourites, she never 
had but two, and these were no supernumerary expense 
or incumbrance to the state. 

Perhaps it would have been better had she been more 
thoroughly directed by the Princess Lamballe. She 
was perfectly conscious of her good qualities, but Polig- 
nac dazzled, and humoured her love of amusement and 
display of splendour. Though this favourite was the 
image of her royal mistress in her amiable characteristics, 
the resemblance unfortunately extended to her weak- 
nesses. This was not the case with the Princess Lam- 
balle ; she possessed steadiness, and was governed by the 
cool foresight of her father-in-law, the Duke de Pen- 
thievre which both the other friends wanted. 

?. E 



402 CHAPTER XXV III, 

The unshaken attachment of the Princess Lamballe to 
the queen, notwithstanding the slight at which she at 
one time had reason to feel piqued, is one of the strong- 
est evidences against the slanderers of her majesty. The 
moral conduct of the princess has never been called in 
question. Amid the millions of infamous falsehoods in- 
vented to vilify and degrade every other individual con- 
nected with the court, no imputation, from the moment 
of her arrival in France, up to the fatal one of her mas- 
sacre, ever tarnished her character. To her opinion 
then, the most prejudiced might look with confidence. 
Certainly no one had a greater opportunity of knowing 
the real character of Maria Antoinette, She was an 
eye witness to her conduct during the most brilliant and 
luxurious portion of her reign ; she saw her from the 
meridian of her magnificence, down to her dejection, to 
the depths of unparalleled misery. If the unfortunate 
queen had ever been guilty of the slightest of those 
glaring vices of which she was so generally accused, the 
princess must have been aware of them ; and it was not 
in her nature to have remained the friend and advocate^ 
even unto death, of one capable of depravity. Yet not 
a breath of discord ever arose between them on that 
score. Virtue and vice can never harmonize , and even 
had policy kept her highness from avowing a change of 
sentiments, it never could have continued her enthusiasm, 
which was augmented, and not diminished by the fall of 
her royal friend. An attachment which holds through 
every vicissitude, must be deeply rooted from conviction 
of the integrity of its object. 

The friendship that subsisted between this illustrious 
pair is an everlasting monument that honours their sex. 
The queen used to say of her, that she was the only 
female she had ever known without gall. *^ Like the 
blessed land of Ireland." observed her majesty? ^*€X» 



CHAPTER xxviir, 403 

empt from the reptiles elsewhere so dangerous to man- 
kind, so was she freed by providence from the venom by 
which the finest form in others is empoisoned. No envy, 
no ambition, no desire, but to contribute to the welfare 
and happiness of her fellow-creatures — and yet, with all 
these estimable virtues, these angelic qualities, she is 
doomed, from her virtuous attachment to our persons, to 
sink under the weight of that affliction, which, sooner or 
later, must bury us all in one common ruin — a ruin, 
which is threatening hourly." 

These presentiments of the awful result of impending 
storms were mutual. From frequent conversations with 
the Princess Lamballe, from the evidence of her letters 
and her private papers, and from many remarks which 
have been repeated to me personally by her highness, 
and from persons in her confidence, there is abundant 
evidence of the forebodings she constantly had of her 
©wn and the queen's untimely end.^ 

There was no friend of the queen to whom the king 
showed any deference, or rather any thing like the de- 
ference he paid to the Princess Lamballe. When the 
Dutchess de Polignac, the Countess Diana Polignac, the 
Count d'Artois, the Dutchess of Guiche, her husband, 
the present Duke de Grammonte, the Prince of Hesse 



* A very remarkable circumstance was related to me when I 
was at Vienna, after this horrid murder. The Princess of Lob- 
kowitz, sister to the Princess Lamballe, received a box, with an 
anonymous letter, telling her to conceal the box carefully till 
further notice. After the riots had subsided a little in France, 
she was apprized that the box contained all, or the greater part, of 
the jewels belonging to the princess, and had been taken from the 
Thuilleries on the 10th of August. 

It is supposed that the jewels had been packed by the princess 
in anticipation of her doom, and forwarded to her sister througli 
her agency or desire. 



404 CHAPTER xxvm, 

Darmstadt, &c., fled from Paris, he and the queen, as if 
they had foreseen the awful catastrophe which was to de- 
stroy her so horribly, entreated her to leave the court, 
and take refuge in Italy. So also did her father-in-law, 
the Duke de Penthievre ; but all in vain. She saw her 
friend deprived of Polignac, and all those near and dear 
to her heart, and became deaf to every solicitation. 
Could such constancy, which looked death in its worst 
form in the face unshrinking, have existed without great 
and estimable qualities in its possessor? 

The brother-in-law of the Princess Lamballe, the 
Duke of Orleans, was her declared enemy, merely from 
her ^ittachment to the queen. These three great victims 
have been persecuted to the tomb, which had no sooner 
closed over the last than the hand of heaven fell upon 
their destroyer. That Louis XVL was not the friend of 
this member of his family can excite no surprise, but 
must rather challenge admiration. He had been seduced 
by his artful and designing regicide companions to expend 
millions to undermine the throne, and shake it to pieces 
under the feet of his relative, his sovereign, the friend 
of his earliest youth, who was aware of the treason, and 
who held the thunderbolt, but would not crush him. 
But they have been foiled in their hope of building a 
throne for him upon the ruin they had made, and placed 
an axe, where they flattered him he would find a dia- 
dem. 

The Prince of Conti told me at Barcelona, that the 
Dutchess of Orleans had assured him, that even had the 
Duke of Orleans survived, he never could have attained 
his object. The immense sums he had lavished upon 
the horde of his revolutionary satellites, had, previous to 
his death, thrown him into embarrassment. The avarice 
of his party increased as his resources diminished. The 
evil, as evil generally does, would have wrought its own 



CHAPTER xxvni. 405 

punishment in either way. He must have lived suspect- 
ed and miserable, had he not died. But his reckless 
character did not desert him at the scaffold. It is 
said, that before he arrived at the Place de Greve he 
ate a very rich ragout, and drank a bottle of champagne, 
and left the world, as he had gone through it. 

The supernumerary, the uncalled for martyr, the last 
of the four devoted royal sufferers, was beheaded the 
following spring. For this murder there f.ould not have 
been the shadow of a pretext. The virtues of this vie 
tim were sufficient to redeem the name of Elizabeth* 
from the stain with which the two of England and Rus- 
sia, who had already borne it, had clouded its immortali- 
ty. She had never, in any way, interfered in political 
events. Malice itself had never whispered a circum- 
stance to her dispraise. After this wanton assassination, 
it is scarcely to be expected, that the innocent and can- 
did looks and streaming azure eyes of that angelic infant, 
the dauphin, though raised in humble supplication to his 
brutal assassins, with an eloquence, which would have 
disarmed the savage tiger, could have won wretches so 
much more pitiless than the most ferocious beasts of the 
wilderness, or saved him from their slow but sure poi- 
son, whose breath was worse than the upas tree, to all 
who came within its influence. 

The Dutchess d'Angouleme, the only survivor of these 
wretched captives, is a living proof of the baneful influ- 
ence of that contaminated prison, the infectious tomb of 

* The eighteen years imprisonment and final murder of Mary 
Queen of Scots, by Elizabeth of England, is enough to stigma- 
tize her for ever, independently of the many other acts of tyran- 
ny, which stain her memory. The dethronement by Elizabeth of 
Russia, of the innocent Prince Ivan, her near relation, while yet 
in the cradle, gives the Northern Empress a claim to a similar 
character with the British Qneen. 



406 CHAPTER XXVIl'Io 

the royal martyrs. That once lovely countenance^ 
which, with the goodness and amiableness of her royal 
father, whose mildness hung on her lips like the milk 
and honey of human kindness, — blended the dignity, 
grace, elegance, and innocent vivacity, which were the 
acknowledged characteristics of her beautiful mother, — 
lost for some time all traces of its original attractionSo 
The lines of deep seated sorrow are not easily obliterated „ 
If the sanguinary republic had not wished to obtain by 
exchange the Generals La Fayette, Bournonville, La- 
meth, &c^ whom Dumourier had treacherously consigned 
into the hands of Austria, there is little doubt but that, 
from the prison, in which she was so long doomed to ve- 
getate only to make life a burthen, she would have been 
sent to share the fate of her murdered family.* 

How can the Parisians complain, that they found her 
royal highness, on her return to France, by no means 
what they required in a princess? Can it be wondered 
at, that her marked grief should be visible when amidst 
the murderers of her family ? It should rather be a won= 
der, that she can at all bear the scenes in which she 
moves, and not abhor the very name of Paris, when eve- 
ry step must remind her of some outrage to herself, of 
those most dear to her, or of some beloved relative or 
friend destroyed ! Her return can only be accounted for^ 
by the spell of that all-powerful amor patrise, which 
sometimes prevails over every other influence. 

That this passion was paramount in the breast of the 
Dutchess d'Angouleme, I am persuaded, from a story re= 

* It is no less singular than true, tliat the wretch Gamin, the 
king's blacksmith, who had been in the habit of working with 
Louis XVI. and afterwards betrayed him so infamously to the 
National Assembly, was chosen by that assembly, or some of its 
regicide members, to prepare the locks and other things necessa- 
ry for his daughter's departure. 



CHAPTER xxvni. 407 

lated to me of her by her royal highness's aunt, the late 
Arch-dutchess Maria Christiana, governess of the Low 
Countries. " My niece," said the arch-dutchess, "has 
nothing in her of the House of Austria. She is her fa- 
ther's child — a Frenchwoman every inch of her ;" and, 
to confirm the remark, she mentioned the following cir- 
cumstance. 

The change from the horrible situation from which 
her royal highness had been so miraculously saved, — and 
the narrow escape, perhaps from an untimely and igno- 
minious death, to the midst of her mother's imperial re- 
lations,* and all the splendors of palaces, would, it was 
imagined, have lighted up her mind with a rapture, like 
that which must fill the wearied and wo-worn spirit, 
that suddenly awakes in Paradise. To make the transi- 
tion still more impressive, every device to amuse a youth- 
ful mind was put in action ; and even the emperor has 
been seen gambolling for her diversion, and himself 
drawing her in a little garden-chair round the gardens of 
Schoenbrunn. 

But all was in vain. She was never seen to laugh op 
even smile during the whole time of her residence there. 
In her room she kept an urn, with the emblems of death, 
and much of her time was devoted in prayers before it 
to the departed souls of her murdered family. 

When Madame de Mackau, who had brought her into 
Germany, was obliged to leave her and return to France, 
the young dutchess was literally inconsolable, and would 
fain have gone back with her. She was remonstrated 
with respecting such superabundant patriotism towards 
the ungrateful country on which she could only look with 

* The emperor and empress weie her first cousins : one the 
son of Leopold, Grand Duke of Tuscany j the otlier daughter of 
the late Queen Carolina of Naples, and both, brother and sister 
of Maria Antoinette. 



408 CHAPTER XXVIIJ. 

execration, upon which she answered : — " True, it has 
been cruel and ungrateful, but still it is my country ; and 
I do not deny that I feel the most poignant grief at ha- 
ving left it, and am overwhelmed at the idea of perhaps 
never more being able to return to it !" 

Fate has since decreed that she should return to it , 
and may her native land, to which she has preserved 
such constancy, through so many cruelties, remember it, 
and endeavour to atone for what it has inflicted on her. 
Before I dismiss this subject, it may not be uninterest- 
ing to my readers, to receive some desultory anecdotes 
that I have heard concerning one or two of the leading 
monsters, by whom the horrors upon which I have ex-= 
patiated were occasioned. 

David, the famous painter, was a member of the san- 
guinary tribunal which condemned the king. On this 
account he has been banished from France, since the re= 
storation. 

If any one deserved this severity, it was David. It 
was at the expense of the court of Louis XVI. that this un- 
grateful being was sent to Rome, to perfect himself in his 
sublime art. His studies finished, he was pensioned from 
the same patrons, and upheld as an artist by the special 
protection of every member of the royal family. 

And yet this man, if he may be dignified by the name^ 
had the baseness to say in the hearing of the unfortunate 
Louis XVI. when on trial, "Weill when are we to have 
his head dressed, d la guillotine P^ 

At another time, being deputed to visit the Temple, 
as one of the committee of public safety, as he held out 
his snuff-box before the Princess Elizabeth, she, conceiv- 
ing he meant to offer it, took a pinch. The monster, 
observing what she had done, darting a look of contempt 
at her, instantly threw away the snuff, and dashed the 
box to pieces on the flooFo 



CHAPTER XXVIII„ 409 

Robespierre had a confidential physician, who attend- 
ed him almost to the period when he ascended the scaf- 
fold, and who was very often obliged, malgre-lui, to 
dine tete a tete with this monopolizer of human flesh and 
blood. One day he happened to be with him, after a 
very extraordinary number had been executed, and 
amongst the rest, some of the physician's most intimate 
acquaintances. 

The unwilling guest was naturally very downcast, and 
ill at ease, and could not dissemble his anguish. He tried 
to stammer out excuses and get away from the table. 

Robespierre, perceiving his distress, interrogated him 
as to the cause. 

The physician, putting his hand to his head, discover- 
ed some reluctance to explain. 

Robespierre took him by the hand, assured him he had 
nothing to fear, and added, " Come, doctor, you, as a 
professional man, must be well informed as to the senti- 
ments of the major part of the Parisians respecting me. 
I entreat you, my dear friend, frankly to avow their 
opinion. It may perhaps serve me for the future, as a 
guide for governing them." 

The physician answered, ^^ I can no longer resist the 
impulse of nature. I know I shall thereby oppose myself 
to your power, but I must tell you, you are generally ab- 
horred, — considered the Attila, the Sylla, of the age ; — 
the two-footed plague, that walks about to fill peaceful 
abodes with miseries and family mournings. The myri- 
ads you are daily sending to the slaughter at the Place 
de Greve, who have committed no crime, — the carts of a 
certain description you have ordered daily to bear a 
stated number to be sacrificed, directing they should be 
taken from the prisons, and, if enough are not in the pri- 
sons, seized, indiscriminately in the streets, that no place 
in the deadly vehicle may be left unoccupied, — and all 

3F 



410 CHAPTER xxvni» 

this without a trial, — without even an accusation, — and 
without any sanction, but your own mandate, — these 
things call the public curse upon you, which is not the 
less bitter for not being audible.-' 

" Ah!" said Robespierre, laughing — " This puts me 
in mind of a story told of the cruelty and tyranny of 
Pope Sextus the Fifth, who, having, one night, after he 
had enjoyed himself at a Bacchanalian supper, when 
heated with wine, by way of a bonne boucke, ordered 
the first man that should come through the gate of the 
Strode del popolo at Rome, to be immediately hanged. — 
Every person at this drunken conclave, — nay, all Rome, 
— considered the pope a tyrant, — the most cruel of ty- 
rants,— till it was made known and proved, after his 
death, that the wretch so executed had murdered his fa- 
ther and mother ten years previously. I know whom I 
send to the Place de Greve, All who go there are guil- 
ty, though they may not seem so. Go on, what else have 
jow heard?'' 

'^^ Why, that you have so terrified all descriptions of 
persons, that they fear even your very breath, and look 
upon you as worse than the plague ; and I should not be 
surprised, if you persist in this course of conduct, if 
something serious to yourself should be the consequence, 
and that ere long." 

Not the least extraordinary part of the story is, that 
this dialogue between the devil and the doctor took place 
but a very few hours previous to Robespierre's being de- 
nounced by Tallien and Carriere to the National Conven- 
tion, as a conspirator against the republican cause. In 
defending himself from being arrested by the guard, he 
attempted to shoot himself, but the ball missed, broke 
the monster's jaw-bone only, and nearly impeded his 
speaking. 

Singularly eiioughj it was this physician who was sent 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 4j 1 

for to assist and dress his wounds. Robespierre replied 
to the doctor's observations^ laughing, and in the follow- 
ing language : 

'^ Oh, poor devils ! they do not know their own inte- 
rest. But my plan of exterminating the evil will soon 
teaeh them. This is the only thing for the good of the 
nation ; for, before you can reform a thousand French- 
men, you must first lop off half a million of these vaga- 
bonds, and, if God spare my life, in a few months there 
will be so many the less to breed internal commotions, 
and disturb the general peace of Europe."* 

* When Bonaparte was contriving the Consulship for life, and, 
in the Irish way, forced the Italian Republic to volunteer an offer 
of the Consulship of Italy, by a deputation to him at Paris, I hap- 
pened to be there. Many Italians, besides the deputies, went on 
the occasion, and among them, we had the good fortune to meet 
the Abbe Fortis, the celebrated naturalist, a gentlemen of first- 
rate abilities, who had travelled three-fourths of the globe in miR- 
eralogical research. The abbe chanced one day to be in company 
with my husband, who was an old acquaintance of his, where many 
of the chop-fallen deputies, like themselves, true lovers of their 
country, could not help declaring their indignation at its degraded 
state, and reprobating Bonaparte for rendering it so ridiculous in 
the face of Europe and the world. The Abbe Fortis, with the 
voice of a Stentor, and spreading his gigantic form, which exceeded 
six feet in height, exclaimed : '' This would not have been the 
case, had that just and wise man, Robespierre, lived but a little 
longer. " ^ 

Every one present was struck with horror at the observation. 
Noticing the effect of his words, the abbe resumed. 

*' I knew well I should frighten you, in showing any partiality 
for that bloody monopolizer of human heads. But you do not 
know the perfidy of the French nation so well as I do. 1 have 
lived among them many years. France is the sink of human de- 
ception. A Frenchman will deceive his father, wife, and child j 
for deception is his element. Robespierre knew this, and acted 
upon it. as you shall hear." 



412 CHAPTER XXVIII. 

This same physician observed, that from the immense 
number of executions during the sanguinary reign of that 
monster, the Place de Greve became so complete a swamp 
of human blood, that it would scarcely hold the scaffold- 
ing of the instrument of death, which, in consequence, 
was obliged to be continually moved from one side of the 
square to the other. Many of the soldiers and officers, 
who were obliged to attend these horrible executions, 
had constantly their half boots and stockings filled with 
the blood of the poor sufferers ; and as, whenever there 
was any national festival to be given, it generally fol- 
lowed one of the most sanguinary of these massacres, — 
the public places, the theatres especially, all bore the 
tracks of blood throughout the saloons and lobbies. 

The infamous Carriere, who was the execrable agent 
of his still more execrable employer, Robespierre, was 
left afterwards to join Tallien in a conspiracy against 
him, merely to save himself; but did not long survive 
his atrocious crimes or his perfidy. It is impossible to 
calculate the vast number of private assassinations com- 
mitted in the dead of the night by order of this cannibal, 
on persons of every rank and description. I knew a 
daughter of this Carriere very well, who was educated 
by Madame Campan. She is married to an Italian; and 
if ever the hand of God marked " Beware of the de- 

The abbe^then related to us the story I have detailed above, ver- 
batim, as he had it from the son of Esculapius, who himself con- 
firmed it afterwards in a conversation with the abb6 in our pre- 
sence. 

Having completed his anecdote, *' Well," said the abbe, « was 
I not right in my opinion of this great philosopher and fore-seer of 
evils, when I observed, that had he but lived a few months longer, 
there would have been so many less in the world, to disturb its 
tranquillity." 



CHAPTER XXVIII, 413 

scendants of the guilty," she, poor woman, and her chil- 
dren, are woeful living examples. Her bodily infirmi- 
ties, though a young and well-looking woman, are of the 
most disgusting nature, and have baffled the art of all 
the physicians in France and Italy. When attacked, she 
is distorted in the most frightful and hideous manner. 
Her children, every one of them, are disgustingly de- 
formed, with scarcely the resemblance of human fea- 
tures. 

My task is now ended. Nothing remains for me but 
the reflections, which these sad and shocking remembran- 
ces cannot fail to awaken in all minds, and especially in 
mine. Is it not astonishing, that in an age so refined, so 
free from the enormous and flagitious crimes which were 
the common stains of barbarous centuries, and at an 
epoch peculiarly enlightened by liberal views, — the 
French nation, by all deemed the most polished since 
the Christian era, should have given an example of such 
wanton, brutal, and coarse depravity to the world, under 
pretences altogether chimerical, and after unprecedented 
bloodshed and horror, ending at the point where it be- 
gan!— 

The organized system of plunder and anarchy, exer- 
cised under different forms more or less sanguinary, pro- 
duced no permanent result, beyond an incontestible 
proof, that the versatility of the French nation and its 
puny suppleness of character, utterly incapacitate it for 
that energetic enterprise, without which there can be no 
hope of permanent emancipation from national slavery. 
It is my unalterable conviction, that the French will ne- 
ver know how to enjoy an independent and free consti- 
tution. 

The tree of liberty unavoidably in all nations has been 
sprinkled with human blood : but when bathed by inno- 



414 CHAPTER XXVIII. 

cent victims, like the foul weed though it spring up, it 
rots in its infancy, and becomes loathsome and infectious. 
Such has been the case in France; and the result justi- 
fies the Italian satire : 

" Un albero senza fruta 

" Baretta senza testa 

" Governo che non resta." 

France ! for what misdeeds hast thou to atone,— -for 
what execrable crimes! Within thy cities, the earliest 
rudiments of my education and my first permanent im- 
pressions were received. Thou art almost my country, 
the scene of ray first interests and attachments. But thy 
enormities overshadowed my youth, blighted and neutra- 
lized my prospects, steeped my riper age in grief, and 
harassed my maturity with disappointment. Thou hast 
left me nothing but reminiscences of wrong and insult to 
those, to whom thou and I both owed so much ; and my 
present condition amid thy rapacious children convinces 
me, that thou art devoid of liberality, incapable of jus- 
tice, saturated with the dregs of the worst species of bar- 
barism, and art only subdued somewhat in thy infernal 
propensities by the uplifted arm of the nations that sur- 
round thee ! 

Pardon me, generous reader, if, when I touch on this 
cruel, cruel subject, I raise a voice too clamorous for the 
common ear. Grant me your indulgence, should I chance 
to be over-swayed by the impetuosity of emotions, neces- 
sarily kindled by recollections of the dreadful misrule of 
a lawless horde of plunderers. It were impossible to 
touch unmoved upon scenes, which rise around me in co- 
lours of blood and forms of havoc, the most terrific that 
ever sickened the human mind with deadly horror, even 
were they disconnected with the angelic princess, whose 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 415 

condescensions for me began to assume more of the mo- 
tlier than the friend; — but when gratitude mingles with 
the natural excitement of recollections so overwhelming, 
language can afford no expressions adequate to what 
I feel. 

But I must endeavour to calm this anguish. I think I 
hear some one expostulate with me thus : *^^ Oh ! after a 
lapse of so many years, surely your good sense, — the 
philosophy for which you have been so much prized, — ■ 
the preservation of your health, — the duty you owe to a 
beloved husband and family, — ought in some degree to 
efface these impressions, and restore you to resignation 
and tranquillity." 

The remonstrance is just. Yet I cannot always exer- 
ercise that fortitude within myself, to which I might 
counsel others. To dwell on such events in terms of 
calm serenity is a task beyond my forbearance, and I trust 
my fervour will be forgiven. I have no interest in what 
I have transcribed or stated. I can never be blessed in 
this world, with a sight of the august queen, who forms 
the leading subject of my narrative, and can expect no- 
thing from her relations, who did so little for her during 
the last moments of her miserable life. But I have un- 
dertaken the task of vindicating her, as far as my hum- 
ble abilities and authentic information would allow ; and 
posterity will judge between her and the foul wretches, 
who have steeped themselves in her blood, after having 
so relentlessly persecuted her before they took her life, 
and pursued her name with villainous slanders when they 
had no longer power over her person. 

Of that part of my work which belongs to my illus- 
trious patroness and most deplored friend, it would be 
presumptuous in me to speak. Concerning what I my- 
self have written, I have but one word to say. Accura- 



416 CHAPTER XXVIII. 

cy has been my sole ambition. I do not court a place in 
the Temple of Fame, and shall be more than satisfied by 
being thought worthy of the glorious distinction of admit- 
tance into the Temple of Truth. 



END, 



3 47 7 



